


It Takes a Nest

by SailorChibi



Series: spn kink meme fills [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic Dean Winchester, Angelic Grace, Egg Laying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, FIx It, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mpreg, Nesting, Panic Attack, Pregnant Dean Winchester, Profound Bond, Protective Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, Uncle Sam, balthazar being his snarky self, hatching eggs, implied bottom dean winchester, kink meme fill, more tags to come, non-graphic birth scene, season 6 fix it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-17 03:25:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 37,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1372132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It turns out there's more to sex with angels than Dean realized. Unfortunately he only discovers this after the nest is built and his body is ready for the next step. It's a good thing that at least Sam is willing to pray for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt on the kink meme requesting Dean laying an egg and building a nest with hurt/comfort.
> 
> oceankat8 has made an adorable piece of [fanart](http://oceankat8.deviantart.com/art/Destiel-and-kids-530926337) for this story.

“Dude. What the hell are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Dean muttered for lack of a better answer, not bothering to turn around and face his brother. He continued prodding at the sweater, making sure that it was in _exactly_ the right shape. What the right shape was he wasn't yet sure, but he would know when it happened.

“It looks like you’ve developed a taste for stealing clothing, that’s what. Is that my Stanford sweater?” Sam sounded a little pissy now, and Dean didn't need to look to know he was wearing an epic version of his bitchface. The floorboards creaked as Sam took a step closer.

Dean whipped around, pointing a finger threateningly. “Don’t.”

Sam froze, hand inches from the pile of clothing, eyes widening. “Dean, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just don’t touch it, Sammy.”

“What exactly _is_ it?”

Instead of responding, Dean just scowled at him until Sam slowly straightened up and backed out of the room with his hands raised in a placating position. Only then did Dean turn back to his work. Over the past week he had slowly turned Bobby’s spare bedroom into a… well, he wasn’t sure what to call it. He’d taken the bed apart and left the mattress on the floor, but it was now buried under piles of clothing: several of Sam’s sweaters, a bunch of Bobby’s shirts, most of his own stuff - including every article of clothing Castiel had ever so much as touched – and the few things he’d managed to find that had Gabriel’s lingering scent. It turned out that even after over a year, angel smell was hard to get rid of.

All of it had been carefully mixed together to create a comfortable bed, over which he’d pinned a couple of the warmest, thickest blankets Bobby had. When Dean crawled inside, he felt peace settling over him for the first time in months. All of the worry over Sam and Crowley and Purgatory drifted away. He rolled over onto his side, curling his legs protectively around his belly. 

Sam did leave him alone for a couple of hours, but eventually he came back and coaxed his brother out with an offer of pizza and beer. He didn’t mention the intervention he and Bobby had planned, and Dean pouted around a mouthful of pizza.

“There’s nothing wrong with me,” he mumbled defensively. 

“You stole half my wardrobe, turned my bedroom into a… a god knows what, you spend all your time either sleeping or eating, and you’ve lost all interest in hunting,” Bobby listed, raising an eyebrow. “Want to tell us again how there’s nothing wrong?”

“You’re getting fat, man,” Sam added.

The words stung, mostly because Dean was reluctant to admit that he didn’t know what was wrong. He could recognize that the compulsion he felt to build a safe place was weird, but at the same time it felt _right_. And who would want to hunt when even taking a shower felt like a marathon? “Maybe it’s just a stomach bug of some kind,” he muttered.

Bobby and Sam exchanged disbelieving looks. “Dean, it’s more than that,” Sam said earnestly. “I think you should consider going to the hospital.”

“Fuck no!”

“Dean –”

“I said no!” Dean stood up. He automatically thought of heading for the Impala, as he normally did when tempers ran high and he needed an escape, but instead he found himself inside the spare bedroom with the door locked securely behind him. Sam started banging away on the door immediately, but Dean didn’t answer – and, lucky for him, Bobby was enough of a paranoid bastard that his locks couldn’t be picked. 

He glanced briefly at the mirror, hating that Sam was right in at least one respect. He was getting fat. His midsection had grown considerably, and it looked a little like he’d swallowed a basketball instead of a couple extra pizzas here and there. It had happened over a couple of months, but that was still pretty fast. Maybe he was sick.

Dean shook his head and dropped to his knees, crawling back into his shelter. The conglomeration of scents was calming. Sam smelt like grass and the Impala, Bobby like old books and beer. Castiel’s scent was sharper, like the feel of lightening before it struck the ground, mingled with cheeseburgers and the cologne Jimmy had favored. Gabriel was ozone and candy, sweet and indefinable. He pressed his face against his pillow and slept.

\--

“I’m not your bloody butler, here to answer all your calls!”

“Look, I’m sorry, but something’s wrong with Dean and Cas won’t answer me.”

“So you called me instead?” Balthazar’s incredibly annoyed voice was more than loud enough to wake Dean up. “What makes you think I would care about – oh.”

“Dean?”

Sam and Balthazar both turned to stare at him when the door opened.

“Give me your coat,” Dean ordered.

“What?” Balthazar said incredulously. “Do you know how expensive this coat was?”

“Give. Me. Your. Coat,” Dean repeated, his fingers itching. He hadn’t even known that he wanted, needed, Balthazar’s scent mixed in with the others until he smelled the angel. Which was fair, because he didn’t even like Balthazar. Guy was an asshole. But he was Castiel’s friend, and he seemed to be a good one at that, and – and Dean _needed_.

Balthazar’s eyes widened slightly at whatever he saw in Dean’s face. His eyes flicked past Dean, into the room behind him, and even though angels didn’t need to breathe he deflated. Without a word, he quickly removed his coat and held it out to Dean. Dean took it, brushing it against his nose, and inhaled ozone and expensive alcohol. He slammed the door in their faces and sank down, putting the coat along the edge. 

There was a long pause from outside.

Then Sam said faintly, “See?”

“Yes, I think I rather do,” Balthazar said, and it was the most subdued that Dean had ever heard him. “Sam, this situation is a lot more serious than you realize. Do not try to remove your brother from that room, understand? It would be extremely dangerous on your part. If he comes out on his own, let him roam. Don’t get in his way when he tries to go back in, and no matter what he steals don’t take it from him. Just… stand back and provide him with food and water. I’ll find Cas. He’ll listen to me.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“I’ll let Cas tell you that.”

“Balthazar! Damn it!” Sam swore loudly. He was quiet for several minutes before he knocked cautiously on the door. “Dean? Do you, uh, need anything?”

Dean lifted his head from his pillow. For the past several weeks there’d been an urge gnawing at him, one he couldn’t put to words, couldn’t solve or build or fix. In two minutes, Balthazar had just summed it up perfectly. “Cas.”

Sam’s sigh was audible. “Okay. Balthazar’s gonna find him. Anything else?”

“Cas,” Dean whispered, closing his eyes. Just Cas.

\--

“This should not be possible.” There was no warning, no flapping of wings, just Castiel’s voice announcing his presence outside the still locked door.

“Oh, you mean like stopping the apocalypse?” Sam said sarcastically, recovering quickly from his momentary surprise. He’d been siting vigil outside the door for the past couple of days. Now, Dean heard him stand up. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, Cas, but we’re all about the impossible.”

“For the hundredth time, it’s possible,” Balthazar chimed in wearily. 

“What’s possible? Cas?”

“Sam… Balthazar believes your brother is…” Castiel’s voice dropped.

“ _What_?” Sam shouted.

“Be quiet,” Balthazar ordered. “Cas, I don’t know what you’ve got going on. You may think me naïve, but I _am_ aware there is far more happening than you’ve told me. Or them. Your little secrets have got to stop. I don’t care for humans in general and the Winchesters in particular, but that’s your mate in there. Another week, maybe as short as a couple of days, and he would have died. You need to tell him everything.”

“Balthazar, you don’t –”

“No, you don’t. Castiel, I mean it. This is sacred, an honor, and you should treat it as such. You know I’m right.”

There was a gentle flutter of wings then, and a hand, hot, on his belly. “Dean.”

“Cas,” Dean said, looking up at him. “What’s going on?” This was the closest they’d been for a long time, and it made him feel steadier. The fog cleared from his mind a little, and he tried to push himself up into a sitting position. His arms were weak and he paused halfway up. Outside, Balthazar said something too low to be audible and then he and Sam left. 

“Balthazar said you needed me. I’m sorry. I didn’t believe him at first.” Castiel sighed, looking Dean up and down. “This should be… impossible.”

“He actually went to find you?” Dean raised an eyebrow, choosing to focus on the first part of that sentence. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what an angel, particularly one who had already been resurrected twice by God, would find impossible.

“Yes. I think you’re the first human to ever scare him.” Castiel smirked a little.

“I didn’t even have an angel blade!”

“A nesting mother could tear an angel apart easily.”

And, okay, that was something Dean could not ignore. He met Castiel’s eyes with a sickening feeling of dread. “What do you mean, a nesting mother?”

“Dean –”

“Cause I gotta tell you, the last time I looked I didn’t have the right parts for that!”

“Dean.”

“And no offence, but we only did it once and that was months ago and I’m a hunter, man, I’m not –”

“ _Dean_.” Castiel cupped the back of his neck and drew him close, closer than Dean wanted to be. But even though he felt like he should pull away, his hands moved of their own accord, clutching desperately at Castiel’s trench coat. A warm hand smoothed down his back and Castiel said softly, “I’m sorry, Dean. I… I knew we shared a profound bond, but I was unaware of how strong it was.” He sounded awed. “When I gripped you tight to raise you from perdition, your soul and my grace… there was a fine line, and when we were intimate that was enough to destroy it. We… are mated, as angels do.”

“And now I’m pregnant,” Dean said, hearing the sharp lift of hysteria in his voice.

“Yes.”

“How can – that’s just – I’m not a fucking woman!”

Castiel sighed again. “I realize that. It’s not necessary.” He drew back just far enough to wiggle a hand between them, resting it on the swell of Dean’s belly. “The combination of your soul and my grace created a safe place for the child. You’ve been tired and hungry, Sam tells me. I’m sorry. That’s my fault. You’ve been carrying the burden alone.” True regret flickered in his eyes.

Dean couldn’t look at him. He ducked his head and stared at Castiel’s hand on his stomach. His heart was thumping fast, roaring in his ears. Pregnant. He was _pregnant_. With Castiel’s kid. “Is that why I’ve been stealing clothes left and right?”

“Yes. You’re nesting. I’m told it is… common angelic behavior.”

“Except I’m not a damn angel.” But he was pregnant with one. His throat tightened up. “Oh god, I’m gonna be sick.”

Instantly there was a bowl in front of his face, just in time for Dean to throw up what little he had consumed earlier. He coughed and spit, catching his breath just in time for to vomit a second time. His stomach continued to rebel until there was nothing left, and even then he still felt nauseous. Castiel was rubbing his back and he leaned against the angel, dizzy. 

“Are you okay, Dean?”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Castiel murmured.

Dean closed his eyes, because Castiel was right about that but he didn’t feel well enough to push it. “My stomach feels weird.”

“Weird how?”

“Dunno. Like… there’s something tugging at me from the inside.” He squirmed. “And… like I gotta take a shit.”

The gentle rubbing of his back stopped, much to his regret, and Castiel’s hand slid around to his front and cupped his stomach. His hand pulsed white and Dean felt a little better, though the weird feeling didn’t go away. 

“Oh,” Castiel breathed, soft and troubled. “Dean, Balthazar didn’t get close to you did he?”

“No,” Dean snapped, a little insulted that Castiel even thought that he would’ve allowed another angel to touch him. Castiel soothed him immediately, hands tender as he urged Dean to turn so that they were facing each other. He helped Dean up onto his feet so that he was squatting. The implication of the position was not lost on him and he looked to Castiel with wide, scared eyes.

“Shh, Dean, it’s okay. You’re just much further along than Balthazar guessed.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean said, nauseous all over again. His heart was beginning to race again, fear tingling along his nerves. His breathing hitched when Castiel snapped their clothing away, leaving them both naked, and he whimpered. 

“It’s okay, Dean. Dean, look at me.” Castiel cupped his face until Dean had no choice but to look at him. Their eyes connected and Dean felt like the rest of the world had fallen away, the way it always did when he looked into Castiel’s blue eyes. 

“I’m not ready for this, Cas,” he whispered.

“I know.”

Just from the way he said it, Dean already knew there was nothing Castiel could do to prolong this or stop it from happening. He started to shiver and couldn’t stop, and the angel crooned to him, low and sweet, and increased the temperature in the room until fine beads of sweat dotted Dean’s face. 

He leaned into Castiel’s touch once he’d calmed a little. The aching in his stomach was worse now, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as he would have guessed and he suspected that was because of Castiel’s presence. The palms on his shoulders were burning hot with grace, and it was like he was being lit up from the inside out with energy that he didn’t want or need, like a conduit. 

“Do you want me to get Sam?”

“No.”

“Bobby?”

Dean shook his head. There were some things he did not want his family to see, and him giving birth had to be in the top ten. Possibly the top five.

He grunted when his back started to cramp. It was a little lower and he realized that the pain was shifting too, slowly sliding down. He dug his fingers into Castiel’s shoulders, his breathing picking up again. 

“Dean, stay with me. You’re fine,” Castiel said firmly. 

“It’s not _fine_ , Cas. This is in no way fine!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Dean growled. He’d never heard Castiel utter those words so often and it was beginning to grate on his nerves. 

Castiel opened his mouth and then shut it, biting back the apology they both knew was on the tip of his tongue.

There was silence for several minutes, Dean wincing and grimacing the whole time, until finally he ground out, “So what’s it mean? The whole mate thing.”

“It’s the angelic equivalent of marriage, only permanent.”

“As in forever.” Dean squinted at him.

“That’s correct.” Castiel paused for only a moment before he said tentatively, “It is… you are not an angel, so it has no real meaning for you. I would not expect you to adhere to it.”

“Oh fuck you. You did not just suggest I would cheat on my husband while I’m in the middle of squeezing out your kid,” Dean hissed. He groaned as his inside clenched tight. “That’s it. You come near me with your cock again and I’m gonna cut it off.”

His lips twitched, but apparently Castiel had finally grown a sense of self-preservation because he held back the laugh. “Yes Dean.”

“I fucking mean it, man,” he warned. It didn’t matter how much he’d enjoyed Castiel’s weight on top of him, the safety that came from being surrounded in warmth and protection. Nothing was worth this.

He gritted his teeth on another groan, digging his nails. “I gotta… it’s getting… worse.”

“Shh, I’m right here.” Castiel’s hands slid lower, braced on Dean’s hips, and his eyes flashed with angelic light. The lower half of Dean’s body tingled, left him flushed and _wet_ , but not like he would’ve been in preparation for sex. He was loose, open, clean. He trembled.

Castiel gripped him tight. “Go ahead, Dean. Push.”

And he kept talking, a mixture of English and Enochian, until the words blended together and Dean couldn’t hear anything but the low, rumbling cadence of his voice. His body knew what it wanted, and even if his mind wasn’t in complete agreement it didn’t matter. He bore down and pushed, automatic, teeth clenched and whimpers of pain escaping. 

Something was shifting in him, moving down, and he could feel himself beginning to freak out at the foreign sensation. But then Castiel said his name, one word that stood out starkly, and he snapped his eyes open. He looked into blue.

Down, down, down – and out. Dean sagged, gasping, and felt weak all over. He wanted to lay down and sleep for the next year or two with Castiel right beside him. 

But Castiel didn’t let go, kept holding him up, and then Dean understood why. Something was still moving around inside of him and he sobbed, exhausted and frightened because he couldn’t do it a second time.

“Dean,” Castiel said, and when he tipped his head back Castiel kissed him. Dean felt it like a little surge, giving him strength, grounding him. Castiel nosed at the tears on his face and he shut his eyes this time and just let it happen. 

When it was over, Castiel laid him out and removed the blood and secretions from his body and the nest with a wave of his hand. Dean felt unbearably feeble, couldn’t ever remember feeling this badly in his life. The lower portion of his body ached with a bone-deep throb and he felt… empty.

Castiel kissed him again. “My beautiful mate,” he whispered. “I’m so proud of you, Dean.”

Dean soaked the words up, but… “I don’t hear babies,” he said, worried.

“Even half-angels have to hatch,” Castiel told him, and then he was placing two eggs beside Dean. He stared at them. Both were roughly half the size of a newborn, maybe a little smaller. One was a creamy blue dotted with purple, the other green swirled with pale yellow. They were warm to the touch and he immediately felt a surge of protectiveness.

“How long…?”

“A couple of months, possibly more. They’ll grow larger, too big for your body to accommodate.” Castiel produced his trench coat and spread it out over Dean and the eggs. For a split second he was terrified it meant the angel was leaving, but then Castiel settled down beside him so that their eggs were between them. He ran a gentle hand through Dean’s sweat-soaked hair and smiled. It was the mom who was supposed to have a glow about them, but Castiel could’ve given a hundred watt bulb a run for its money.

“That’s good,” Dean decided, because he’d need those couple of months to get used to the fact that he was going to have children. Two kids. With Castiel. God, would he _ever_ get used to that? “Will you… you won’t leave, right?”

Castiel’s smile faded and he looked at Dean very seriously. Dean stared back at him, more terrified now than he’d been while giving birth. He thought he could do this, but not without Castiel.

“There are some things I need to tell you,” Castiel said at last. “You will be angry with me.”

Dean sighed. “Like?”

“I will tell you once you have slept and eaten. You need to rest and heal.” Castiel shushed him before Dean could even start to argue, adding, “I will be here when you wake up, and I will tell you all you want to know. Then, if you still want me here…”

“You’ll stay,” Dean whispered.

“Yes, Dean. I’ll stay.”


	2. Chapter 2

Dean slept for a couple of days, during which only Castiel was allowed in the room. Any attempt from Sam was meant with either silence or a distinct 'go away'. Sam had to rely on the angel to bring his brother food, and since there was no sign of the food in Bobby's kitchen disappearing from a nightly vandal, he figured that Castiel was doing just that. Of course, that did make him wonder where, exactly, Castiel was getting food from, but some things were probably best left unasked.

When Dean woke up, he and Castiel had a talk.

And then he got pissed.

Or at least, that’s what Sam thought. He wasn’t actually around for said waking up or subsequent talk, but it was pretty hard to miss the shouting that broke out around three in the morning and continued for about an hour straight. Or the forcible human ejection of Castiel from the nest, after which Dean slammed the door and spent a very loud few minutes explaining in great detail what would happen to any angel that tried to find a way inside. Angel blades weren’t really meant to be used that way, but never let it be said Dean wasn’t inventive.

He did eventually hear the finer details. Dean still wouldn't open the door, but - apparently realizing that Sam was genuinely worried about him - he was lucid enough to have a conversation through the wood. After hearing about the deal that Castiel had struck with Crowley to open the door to Purgatory so that he could beat Raphael, and all this behind their backs while straight up lying to their faces, truth be told Sam was furious too. 

Considering everything they’d gone through, he had the really strong urge to take Castiel by the shoulders and shake him until he realized that lying to your family was never a good idea (the fact that he'd learned that from Sam and Dean notwithstanding). He might’ve actually done it, too, had it not been for the way Castiel plunked himself down in front of the bedroom door and spent three days straight staring at the wood with the most woebegone, puppy-eyed expression Sam had ever seen.

And that included the time he and Dean came across a litter of actual starving puppies in Indiana.

Eventually the weird combination of guilt and anger, coupled with the knowledge that Dean could sulk for weeks with the best of them, led to Sam sitting down next to him. He glanced over at the angel, wondering if Castiel even noticed that he was there, so focused was he on the door. He ventured a cautious, “Hey Cas.”

“Hello Sam.”

Okay. Acknowledgement. Good first step. “You messed up, huh?”

“It would seem so. Dean is very angry with me.” Castiel looked away from the door for the first time in days, but he never once lost that kicked puppy expression. Faced with the full power of those enormous blue eyes, Sam struggled to keep from melting. He held out right up until Castiel pulled his knees up against his chest, like a little kid, and sighed mournfully.

“Damn it,” Sam muttered, because God save him from adorable, dumbass angels. “Listen, Cas, I'm pissed at you too. You did a really stupid thing that could've gotten us all in a shitload of trouble. But I know Dean well enough to know that he's gonna be a stubborn jackass about this, and he really needs you to be in there with him right now. So look. If this is gonna work and you really want Dean to forgive you there’s three things you have to do.”

Castiel blinked at him. “... What?”

Sam decided to take that as an implied _please Sam, tell me everything you know_ and pushed forward. “One, you gotta stop keeping secrets. I mean it. Actually, this is something that both you and Dean should stop. But this is about you, so yeah.” He gave the angel his best no-nonsense look.“No more deals with demons, and especially no more plans to open Purgatory without telling us about it. You and Dean are pretty much a package deal now. That means you gotta talk about what you’ll do together.”

“Okay,” Castiel said, clearly committing this vital information to memory. Sam bit back a smirk, sensing that Dean was in for some very intense sharing sessions in the future. “What are the second and third things?”

“Right.” He wiped his hands on his jeans and cleared his throat. “Number two, stop leaving.”

“Sam –”

“I know, you’re probably always gonna come back. But we’re not angels, man, we need more than you just silently disappearing whenever you want. Especially Dean. I know he thinks… well, everyone he loves leaves him.” Sam licked his lips and dropped his eyes. This was hard. “Mom died, Dad died, I left for university.”

He’d thought it was the smart choice at the time. Get out on his own, out from under Dad, see what else there was in the world other than hunting. He hadn’t really thought about what it would be like to leave Dean behind until it was done. Dean was more than his brother: he was friend, mom, dad, guardian and protector all rolled up into one. And there were a lot of days when Sam was thankful his brother had sought him out in the first place, because he wasn’t sure he could’ve dealt with Azazel’s shit on his own.

He cleared his throat again to make up for the awkward pause. “And we’re hunters, so you never know when someone’s just not coming back. So I’m just sayin’, you can’t do that anymore. If you want this with Dean, you gotta be _here_. It’s not like you can’t leave, but… say good-bye. Let him or at least someone know when you’ll be home. Call when you’re gonna be late or whatever; we’ll get you more minutes on your phone.”

Castiel was silent for a moment, watching Sam with unnerving intensity. “And the third?”

“Apologize,” Sam said softly. “And mean it. Don’t say it just ‘cause you think you should.”

“But… it was the only method that made sense to me.”

“Yeah, but if it makes you hide from or lie to the people who love you it’s not the right method.” Sam had learned that first-hand. “We’ll find a better way together, Cas. All of us. You don’t have to do it alone. You never did.” He reached over and gave Castiel a friendly clap on the shoulder, letting his hand linger there. “I doubt he’ll ever admit it but Dean needs you, especially now, so don’t fuck this up. Or I’ll find a way to kick your ass.”

“I won’t,” Castiel promised. “You have given me much to think about.” He paused again, and then added, “I know it is worth very little, but I am sorry for the trouble I have caused you and your brother. Thank you, Sam.”

It wasn’t quite the apology Sam knew Dean wanted - no, needed to hear, but it was a start. He smiled. “Anytime.” He got up slowly, sighing at a familiar twinge in his back, and headed down the hall. Just around the corner he stopped and waited there, listening, and smiled to himself when he heard the door open and the low, inaudible sounds of Dean and his angel speaking. Then the door shut. 

He didn’t need to look back to know that Castiel wasn’t in the hall anymore.

\--

Dean listened to the conversation between his brother and his angel with the door still closed, because even though they both probably knew he was listening he wasn't ready to face them yet. Part of him wasn't ready to talk to Castiel at all. Every time he thought about what the angel had told him, it pissed him off all over again. Crowley? Of all the stupid choices that Castiel could've made, that had to be up there near the very top. And bringing Sam back from hell soulless? Did he even know Castiel anymore?

Still, when they were done speaking Dean couldn't help himself. He waited a minute to be sure that Sam was gone before he cracked the door open. Castiel was still standing there, shoulders slumped a little instead of held ramrod straight like usual. He looked smaller without the trenchcoat, which was still wrapped protectively around the eggs. 

"I'm still pissed at you," Dean said, trying to ignore the uncomfortable lurch in his chest. The past few days had not been comfortable at all. He'd slept very poorly when he could sleep at all, jerking awake from nightmares and the creeping sense that something might have broken through the wards and stolen one of the eggs. It left him in a constant state of exhaustion, which only made it harder to sleep because he didn't feel like he'd be capable of defending the eggs if a monster did break in.

On top of all that, it was even worse than before because now he knew what it was like to sleep underneath Castiel's watchful eye. Dean hated himself for both wanting that and for trusting Castiel enough to want it in spite of the betrayal.

"I know."

"You're an idiot," he added, because he felt like that needed to be said, and backed away to let Castiel enter the room. Castiel closed the door behind him and hovered at the edge of the nest as Dean awkwardly sat beside the eggs, wincing in pain even though the floor was covered in clothing and bedding. The lower half of his body still hurt a lot, especially his ass, to the point where he was a little afraid to take a shit. Fortunately it hadn't been an issue yet; he'd been too tired to eat much of the food that kept appearing in a corner of the room.

"I know," Castiel repeated.

Dean glared at him.

Castiel sighed. "I'm not sure what it is you want me to say, Dean. As I told your brother, I felt as though it was my best course of action at the time. I did not enjoy making a deal with a demon, but I couldn't see any other way of stopping Raphael. A deal with Crowley still sounded better than letting the Apocalypse come to pass."

"You could've come to me," Dean said, trying and failing at not sounding hurt. But really, it was pretty hard not to when your boyfriend/husband/mate/one time lover was willing to make a deal with a demon over you.

"I did consider that. I wanted to."

"But you didn't."

"No, I didn't. You... seemed happy where you were. After everything that heaven and hell put you through, you deserved that."

Dean's throat felt kinda tight, and Christ he hated how girly he was acting. It was immensely frustrating to have such piss poor control over his own body. He cleared his throat roughly. "It was okay. Lisa and Ben weren't really my cup of tea. I couldn't give them the attention they deserved."

Not with Sam trapped in hell, because no matter what kind of promises that Dean made he couldn't just leave his brother there without searching for some kind of an answer. And not with the memories of that one night with Castiel hanging over him, either. Lisa, bless her, did her best to get him to move on, but she just couldn't compete with the person that Dean really wanted. 

That train of thought reminded him of something important. He ducked his head, brushing a careful hand over the eggs. It was both amazing and scary to think about how attached he'd become already. "How come it took so long?" he asked, not meeting Castiel's eyes. "We had sex a year and a half ago. Shouldn't they have been born, y'know, sooner?"

Though it was a good thing they hadn't been. Lisa was a cool chick, but he didn't think she would've responded well to the current situation. Fuck, sometimes Dean still felt like he was on the verge of a freak out when reality slammed home: he'd given _birth_ to two _eggs_. He was the father - mother? - of two human-angel hybrids. It sounded like the plot of a really shitty science fiction novel, but really it was just his life.

"The gestation period of an angel is notably longer than nine months. It has been some time since an angel was born, but it takes roughly five human years." Castiel glanced at the eggs. There was naked longing in his face, mixed with regret. "Since a human was carrying the children, it should have taken about a year. Had they been able to feed off my grace and not just your soul, they would have been born more quickly. With only your soul for nutrients, the process was slowed."

Dean just grunted in response, not wanting to think all that closely about grace and souls and feeding. It was hard enough to wrap his head around this as it was. He watched warily, on guard but not protesting, as Castiel took cautious steps towards the eggs. They were, after all, his children too, and no matter how much of a douchebag he'd been acting like Dean wasn't going to keep him away from his kids. 

Although it would be a damn long time before Dean felt comfortable leaving him alone with them.

Castiel's eyes flicked his way, as though assessing whether or not he was going to be attacked. When Dean didn't move, he relaxed enough to kneel down before them. His hands were tender as he pushed aside the trenchcoat and brushed his fingers against the shell.

Something warm and _happy_ flared in Dean's chest.

"What the hell?" he squeaked, shocked.

"You felt that?"

"Yeah - what was -"

"They're pleased." Castiel was smiling as he picked up the blue egg, the one Dean privately thought of as a girl. He cradled it against his chest. "You have been taking excellent care of them, Dean, and it shows."

His face got hot and Dean scowled as he scooped up the green egg. "I haven't been doing anything."

"You made them a nest, Dean. A safe place amongst family where they could grow. You dote on them, keeping them warm and nurturing them with your soul. They can feel your love and affection as strongly as though you were singing to them from the chorus of Heaven," Castiel murmured. His blue eyes were bright, and Dean realized with a shock that they were the same color as the egg.

He decided not to respond, mostly because he had no idea what he would've said to something like that. He looked down at the egg he held and idly traced a particularly bright strand of yellow swirled in through the green. They were still so small, tiny enough to fit comfortably in his cupped hands. It was hard to imagine that there was a baby in there, growing.

"I am sorry, Dean. I... could go back and change my actions -"

"No," Dean said instantly. Time travel was dangerous and confusing, and no matter how powered up Castiel was he hadn't forgotten what happened to the angel the last time they time traveled together. It had taken Castiel days to recover. And besides, he didn't want to forget. This was crappy and he was still pissed and he didn't really feel like he could trust Castiel, but taking the easy way out never worked. Dean had learned that the hard way.

Surprisingly, Castiel seemed to be relieved by his response. "I merely wish to extend the offer."

"I know. And thanks," Dean muttered, blinking heavily. Now that Castiel was in the room with him, it was getting hard to stay awake. But there was one more thing he really needed to know. "Cas, when you went to retrieve Sam -"

"If I had known his soul was left behind, I would have done what I could to retrieve it," Castiel said, so honest and earnest Dean had to believe him. "The cage was... extracting Sam in the first place was nearly impossible. I should have realized that I was not powerful enough to do it properly, but I was foolish. I thought too highly of myself. And when you found out..." He hesitated a little before admitting, "it was a distraction for you. I hoped that I would be able to fix Sam before you knew the truth."

"It didn't work."

"Obviously."

It was so deadpan that Dean snorted. "So is this it, then? Are you gonna take off and keep working against Raphael?"

"No."

"No?"

"I have a flock to care for," Castiel said softly, and his look of awe made Dean's stomach twist uncomfortably. "Balthazar will need to lead the war for the time being. My presence is needed here."

"But Cas -"

"They could kill you if they siphon too much power from your soul in lieu of grace. I'm not leaving." Castiel's voice was firm, allowing for no arguments, and Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. 

"We should talk this over with Bobby and Sam," he mumbled. "They can start doing research. Maybe there's another way to stop an archangel we didn't come across before."

"Possibly." Castiel didn't sound hopeful, not that Dean really blamed him. Short of hauling Raphael downstairs and shoving him in the cage along with Lucifer and Michael, he was drawing a blank. But anything had to be better than opening up Purgatory with Crowley. That just had bad idea written all over it.

He yawned, biting his lip in an effort to hide it. It didn't work. His body had reached its limit. He muttered, "How the hell do women get anything done after giving birth?"

Castiel shot him an amused look. "You need sleep, Dean. Would you like me to leave?"

"No," Dean said quickly, too quickly, because even though he didn't trust Castiel all the way, it was still better than being alone. "I mean, not unless you have something you need to do."

"I will convene with Balthazar while you rest."

It would never cease to be creepy, seeing the way Castiel's eyes glazed over and his vessel stopped breathing when he focused his attention elsewhere. And yet Dean knew that if there was even the slightest _hint_ of trouble, Castiel would be in smiting mode before he had time to blink. They were - maybe - all safe here.

He slowly scooted a bit closer so that he could slip the other egg into Castiel's lap, figuring it needed some grace too. Then he laid down, resting his head on the trenchcoat and keeping his eyes focused on the eggs and his - whatever the fuck Castiel was right now. He stayed that way until his eyes became too heavy to keep open and he dropped off into his first peaceful sleep in days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I really wasn't planning to continue this until all you lovely people asked me to. I had a short outtake already written which I added to, which is what you see posted here. I'm still not sure about continuing, but if I do this will probably be one of those fics where Dean becomes an angel of sorts and then there may be some kid/babyfic when the eggs hatch and Gabriel will probably return (with possible sabriel, maybe) - and hell I have no clue if that interests anyone?


	3. Chapter 3

There was a tickle at the edge of Dean’s consciousness, like he was walking through a crowd and someone had brushed by him. His eyes fluttered open and he tried to roll over without thinking, only to freeze as pain shot up his spine. It hadn’t taken him long to discover that the only thing worse than moving was remaining still for a long period of time and _then_ moving. He slumped back down to the floor and ground his teeth together in frustration. 

A moment later, a familiar hand was splayed across his lower back. Warm tingling flowed through him, easing the strained muscles in his thighs and calves. His ass continued to hurt, though, like someone had shoved a burning poker straight up inside of him. And now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure that was something he’d actually suffered through at one point while in hell. His skin crawled and he shivered, making to squirm out from under the hand.

“Be still, Dean,” Castiel commanded, and Dean thoroughly resented the way his body stilled and went butter-soft under the calm directive. “I’m sorry. If I had known the damage was so extensive, I would have helped you sooner.”

“I’d have stabbed you with an angel blade if you tried,” Dean said under his breath, not wanting the angel to forget just who was in charge here. He felt a flash of cruel satisfaction at the way Castiel’s fingers went stiff. “Men aren’t exactly built for this kind of stuff, Cas. There’s a reason that all those pregnant men stories turn out to be a bunch of bullshit made up by losers with too much time on their hands.” 

“Not anymore. Now hold still so I can see what I’m doing.”

“I’m not dropping my pants for you, buddy.”

“I don’t need you to.” The hand slid lower, inching underneath the hem of his jeans and boxers until Castiel was definitely copping a feel of his bare ass. Dean bit his lip against another protest when fingers slipped between his buttocks because it really did feel good, and not in the sexy way. The more contact Castiel had the more the pain faded, and he hadn’t realized just how much it hurt until it didn’t anymore.

Freed from that distraction, however, his body had apparently decided that it was allowed to react in a completely different and inappropriate way, and he was suddenly grateful that he was on his stomach and not his back or else it would’ve been obvious. It might have been a long time since he and Castiel had had sex, but that didn’t mean Dean didn’t remember every detail. Or that he didn’t dream about it, since his mind liked to be a total bastard and torture him in all ways, not just the ones related to hell. And now that the angel was touching him again…

“Thanks Cas,” he said quickly, forbidding his hips from grinding down against the nest the way they wanted to. “That’s a lot better.”

There was the ghost of a fingertip against his hole, fleeting and barely there, and then Castiel removed his hand in a surprisingly business-like manner. “You should be capable of walking and sitting without pain now.”

“Thanks,” Dean muttered again. He shifted up onto his hands, pulling his knees under him. His jeans were tented a little, though not as bad as he’d feared. He tried to pretend that he couldn’t still feel the heat of Castiel’s hand against his skin like a brand and looked over his shoulder.

Castiel was looking at him with an unreadable expression, his brow furrowed. His blue eyes were intent, as though if he stared hard enough he would be able to see into Dean’s soul. Or maybe that’s what he was doing already, though Dean hoped not. There were a lot of things he needed to keep private, thank you very much. He met the stare just like always, refusing to look away.

“Sam is concerned about you,” Castiel said at last, and the abrupt change in subject was enough to make Dean blink. His eyes watered and he dropped his gaze, rubbing at them with his palms.

“Yeah, I guess I haven’t seen the big girl face to face for a while.” Now that he had the clarity of mind to think about it, he hadn’t seen Sam since before the eggs were born. They’d spoken through the door, but something in Dean rebelled against opening up that last physical barrier for anyone other than Castiel, even his baby brother. So it wasn’t really surprising that Sam was getting a little freaked out. 

He let his hands fall and glanced around. The sight of the nest was already familiar, and the scents from the clothing had combined into something that smelled like _home_. Here he felt safe, protected, surrounded by family, and it was one thing to let Castiel enter; the nest felt complete only when he was there. Dean wasn’t really okay with that, if only for reasons he was not prepared to identify, but that was neither here nor there.

The point was he didn’t think he could let Sam in. Not yet, not while everything was so fresh and uncertain and part of him still thought there was a chance that at any minute he might wake up and realize this was all just one hell of a bizarre dream. But Sam – and probably Bobby – would want to see the eggs too, and that meant he would have to take them out of the nest. And Dean was not okay with that. Not at all.

He didn’t realize that his breathing had sped up until Castiel touched him again, his fingers slotting neatly into place on Dean’s shoulder where the handprint mark had once been. Dean started, having almost forgotten that Castiel was even in the room, and forced a smile. There was nothing to worry about, right? This was _Bobby_ and _Sam_ , both of whom Dean trusted more than he trusted himself, and the house was warded with every sigil, charm and rune imaginable. 

“Dean –”

“It’s fine.” He wasn’t in the mood for a chick flick conversation about how his feelings were perfectly normal or some bullshit like that. Nor was he ready to hear Castiel call him anything approaching a “nesting mother” again. He got up, slightly wobbly but free of pain, and wrapped the eggs in the trenchcoat before he scooped them into his arms. They seemed pitifully small and fragile and he gritted his teeth against the surge of protectiveness.

Castiel studied his face for a moment before he conceded, rising to his own feet and opening the door with a twitch of his fingers. He walked out into the hall first, and Dean was pretty sure he wasn’t imagining the glint of an angel blade in his hand. It was a good thing no one in the house was the practical joker type, or there was an excellent chance they would’ve been stabbed right then. Because for all of his outward composure, Castiel’s shoulders were unusually stiff and the way he dropped back to hover beside Dean as they walked down the steps spoke volumes.

Sam was sitting on Bobby’s couch, paging through an old book. A forgotten sandwich was sitting on the coffee table, only one bite missing, with a half-drunk beer beside it. When one of the stairs creaked beneath Dean’s foot, his head shot up instantly. “Dean!”

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean said, and this time the smile came easy and genuine. But the relief at seeing his brother was a little tempered by the immediate wave of guilt when he saw how run down Sam looked. Bruises under the eyes and a sallow complexion were pretty much par for the course for a Hunter, but the return of his soul had been hard enough on his brother without having this piled on top of it. Sometimes Dean thought it was a miracle that Sam hadn't collapsed under the weight of it all yet.

"You're okay," said Sam, and it wasn't really a question but almost.

Dean nodded. "I'm fine."

"And those..."

He tensed a little when Sam's gaze dropped to the eggs, but he fought the instinctive reaction to retreat to the nest. Sam was the most important thing in his life and there wasn't much Dean wouldn't share with him, not when it really mattered. And these were his kids, Sam's nieces or nephews. "Yeah."

Sam stood up, grimacing a little like it had been a long time since he'd bothered to move, and crossed the distance between them in a handful of steps. He didn't come close enough to touch, perhaps too mindful of the tense angel at Dean's side, but he did put his hands on his knees and bend down so that he was on the same level when he squinted at the eggs. Seeing the thin line between his eyebrows, the purse of his lips and the way he caught his tongue between his teeth, reminded Dean of when they were kids and Sam was really interested in learning about something. It had been years since he'd seen that expression on Sam's face, and he was surprised by how strong the resulting pang of yearning was. 

"Weird," Sam breathed finally, his eyes shining with excitement. "And those really came out of you?"

"It was far worse than any hunt we've ever been on and that's all I'm saying about it," Dean said, having absolutely no desire to ever rehash the experience. He was pretty sure Sam wanted a lot more details than that, but that was more than Dean was willing to give and Sam seemed to sense that. He straightened back up and smirked a little.

"I bet it was. I was at the hospital with Jess when her aunt gave birth. I've never heard screaming like that. I don't envy you, Dude."

Dean just rolled his eyes at him, more glad than ever that he'd declined Castiel's offer to fetch Sam and Bobby while he was pushing the eggs out. He didn't think Sam would've have teased him for his fear and panic at the time, but that was closer than the brothers ever needed to be. "Where's Bobby? I figured he'd want to see them, too."

"He's out on a supply run, but he should be back in a few minutes. Can I hold them?"

He should have been expecting that question, but somehow it took him by surprise. Dean hesitated, unconsciously tightening his grip on the eggs. He didn't know why he was so protective of them, because they looked like a couple of dollar store Easter decorations. Except - the shell was warm to the touch and sometimes he imagined that when he touched them or spoke to them, they grew warmer. In a few months they would hatch and there would be babies inside, and that meant these were his kids. _His_ children, his and Castiel's, and there was so much out there in the world waiting to hurt them or worse.

But Sam was his kid too, sort of. God knew Dean had been the one to raise him 95% of the time while John was out on one hunt or another. And when he thought about it like that, that what he was feeling for the eggs wasn't so very different to what he still felt towards Sam, it wasn't so difficult to nod and extend his arms. Especially when Sam's whole face lit up with a grin that Dean hadn't seen in years.

"Just be careful," Dean said.

Sam just nodded as he reached out and carefully took the bundle of trenchcoat. Dean was gratified to see him back up and sit down on the sofa, balancing the coat on his knee before he picked up the blue egg, but his heart still skipped a beat. It was a little easier to handle when Castiel rested a supportive hand on the small of his back, a subtle but powerful gesture that reminded Dean he wasn't alone in this. And sure, his support might've been a screwed up angel that made deals with demons, but it was a hell of a lot better than being alone.

"Do you know which one is a boy and which one is a girl?" Sam asked.

"There is no way to tell," said Castiel. He was watching Sam intently. "Angels are genderless, as I've explained to you before. In their current form, the eyas are similar. Were the shells to break -"

"Hang on, eyas?" Dean interrupted.

"It's what you would call a baby hawk or falcon," Sam said without looking away from the eggs. "You use that term because angels are warriors, right?"

"Yes. It is the closest human term," Castiel said. "As I said saying, if the shells were to break, right now you would perceive the eyas as balls of light. But as it gets closer to the date when they will hatch, their human bodies will form and then I will be able to tell you."

"I think of that one as a girl," Dean offered in the ensuing silence, pointing to the blue egg. "And that one as a boy."

"One of each," said Sam, still wearing that silly smile.

"Yeah, I guess. I could be wrong."

"Often a mother knows instinctively," Castiel said. Sam choked a little. Dean tried not to blush, but knew from the heat of his face he was failing miserably.

"I'm hungry," he grunted, embarrassed. He made a quick escape into the kitchen, trusting Castiel to watch over Sam and the eggs in his absence. He opened the refrigerator door, pointedly not listening to the conversation going on in the other room as he looked over the contents. Small wonder Bobby had gone on a supply run, because the pickings were pitiful. He finally settled on three leftover pieces of pizza that had definitely seen better days and sat down at the table to eat them cold.

Castiel entered the kitchen a few minutes later, sans eggs. "Sam tells me I should apologize for referring to you as a mother and not a father."

Dean sighed and, again, wondered how this was his life now. "Sam says a lotta things," he grumbled into a piece of pizza. "Where're the eggs?"

"Sam is holding them. He will be careful," Castiel said in that calm way which suggested he'd already explained what would happen if Sam _wasn't_ careful. "Is this another one of your bizarre human constricts? You did give birth to the eggs, Dean. You are technically their mother."

"Like I said, guys don't usually get pregnant."

"Does it make you uncomfortable?"

Faced with that penetrating stare, it was easier to look down at his pizza. "I dunno. Frankly, Cas, it's frigging weird to hear myself be referred to as a parent, period. It's not something I'm used to."

There was a long pause, during which Dean didn't dare look up, and then Castiel said quietly, "If you would prefer I took the children and left -"

"No!" Dean was on his feet so fast the chair fell over behind him. His throat was tight with panic at the thought of the eggs being taken away from him. It was the sum of his nightmares and he ached with bewilderment at the intensity of these feelings, overwhelmed. Castiel was suddenly in front of him and Dean sagged against him, unable to stand upright of his own will any longer.

"It's okay, Dean."

"I'll fight you if you take them," Dean said into the coat of his suit, and he would. He'd fight any fucker who tried to touch his kids; that, he knew down to his bones.

"I know. I won't. It's okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Saj_te_Gyuhyall for suggesting the term "eyas" for the babies instead of "chicks". It really does work much better.


	4. Chapter 4

The expression on Bobby's face when he walked in the door and saw the eggs for the first time was one that Dean found hard to identify. Surprise, maybe, tempered with a little bit of resignation and sadness. But there was something else too, something soft, and, although Bobby made no move to touch the eggs that were cradled so carefully on Sam's knees, he did give Dean a rough pat on the shoulder. Dean swallowed hard and forced a smile, not having realized until that moment how worried he was that Bobby might tell them to get lost. He hadn't signed up for having his house be turned into a nest, after all. This was a level of weirdness far beyond anything else that they had dealt with.

It was ruined just a little bit when Bobby pushed his ball cap further up on his forehead and said, "So what do you all plan to do about Crowley, then? And Raphael," he added, sending a pointed look towards Castiel that suggested Sam had filled him in on everything. Castiel shifted uncomfortably but remained silent, and although he wasn't really sure he wanted to save Castiel the grief - it was kind of nice seeing the angel squirm - Dean spoke up.

"I dunno, but we sure as hell won't be opening up any doors to Purgatory. If Crowley wants this so bad that he's willing to risk making a deal with an angel, then it can't mean anything good. The last thing we need is the King of Hell running around souped up on the power of a billion souls."

"What about Raphael?" Sam asked. "It doesn't sound like we have many options."

"There's got to be something better," Dean snapped back, refusing to even entertain the thought of Castiel and Crowley working together. Crowley was a backstabbing son of a bitch who never did anything for anyone unless he got some kind of a reward for his actions. Guaranteed that if Crowley was trying to open Purgatory, he was the only one who was going to benefit from it in the long run. And Dean wasn't interested in seeing the problems with Heaven disappearing only because Crowley had taken over everything.

"Raphael is the last archangel. He is very powerful," Castiel said quietly, his eyes locked on the floor. He sounded completely dejected. "It is... nearly impossible to defeat an archangel, as you know, especially without the blade of an archangel. Many of the angels that I had swayed to my side are now dead, or they have decided to give up to avoid being killed. Heaven was never meant to be torn apart like this, and the angels are naturally inclined to follow the stronger leader. That is why the idea of opening Purgatory sounded so appealing. With the power of so many souls behind me, I could have easily overpowered him and the conflict would have been non-existent."

"It's just not a good idea, Cas," Dean said, refusing to admit that it hurt to see Castiel looking so downtrodden. The last time the angel had been so convinced that a defeat was imminent was during the apocalypse, and at least then Castiel hadn't been shouldering this burden alone. The four of them had been a united front. But for the past couple of months, Castiel had been trying to deal with this huge problem without any support. It wasn't exactly surprising that he'd decided to take Crowley up on his offer. God knew that Dean had had a few moments where the darkest path seemed like the one that made the most sense. 

The last time that had happened, Castiel had beaten him black and blue in a dark alley.

A little bit of the angry knot in Dean's stomach chipped away as those thoughts went through his mind. He was still furious that Castiel had been so stupid, but he couldn't find it in himself to want to punish the angel anymore. Considering that he was a creature who'd lived for millions of years with no concept of the idea of free will, at least part of the blame lay with Dean and Sam for leaving Castiel on his own - even if Dean remembered calling repeatedly for the angel, only for his summons to go unanswered. At least now he knew what was so important that Castiel wouldn't risk coming to see him; he was probably afraid of drawing even more attention to Dean, Lisa and Ben.

If Bobby and Sam hadn't been in the room, he might've put a hand on Castiel's shoulder and given him a squeeze for support. Instead he folded his arms across his chest, trying to school his expression so as not to show what he was thinking. Sam was still pissed and he figured that Bobby was too, so it wouldn't do for Dean to look like he was forgiving Castiel too quickly. After all, the angel could've easily ended the world all over again. There was no telling what would happen when Purgatory was opened. Sure Crowley made it sound like it would all be as easy as flipping the switch, but the chances of that actually happening were slim to none as far as Dean was concerned. And after everything Castiel had told them about demons, it was hard to believe he hadn't realized that already.

Bobby was the one who broke the silence, his voice unexpectedly gentle when he said, "We just don't know enough about Purgatory. I've searched all of my books repeatedly and there's only the occasional, vague mention of it. I wouldn't believe a thing that Crowley says, so basically we're operating blind. How do you know that the souls wouldn't go straight to Hell? They are monsters. Can't imagine Heaven would really welcome them."

Castiel blinked at the question, his lips parting slightly like he wanted to respond but wasn't sure how. "I... Even the souls of monsters are not inherently good or bad. They differ from human souls and are capable of being used by anyone."

"So my next question is, how do you know Crowley wouldn't stick an angel blade in your back once the portal is open and call it a day?"

The sharp jolt of pain that shot through his chest at the idea of an innocent, trusting Castiel dying was enough to make Dean wince. His heart rate sped up slightly and he shifted, uneasy, sternly reminding himself that there was nothing between him and Castiel to warrant that kind of reaction. They were friends who'd slept and fought together, and sure they were apparently having a couple of kids together, but that was it. The fact that his hands had gone clammy was just because of the hormones that he still didn't have control of; they were making his body react in increasingly frustrating and uncontrollable ways.

"We had a deal," Castiel said, though his words sounded weak.

"Did you sign something?" Sam asked.

"Oh god, please tell me you didn't kiss him," Dean said, horrified and revolted at the idea. And okay, maybe a little bit betrayed. Because if that was the case, those dreams he'd had about the night they'd spent together were no longer welcome and they sure as well were never going to be a reality. He'd never be able to kiss Castiel again without thinking about Crowley, which was just about the most effective killer of a boner ever.

"No!"

"Thank god," Sam muttered. "But if that's the case, then I really doubt that Crowley was planning to keep his word, Cas. He's not exactly the type of guy who goes around making pinkie swears."

Castiel looked confused. "I am not familiar with -"

"It's just a stupid thing kids do, Cas," Dean cut in. He sighed and thrust his hand out, pinkie finger extended. Castiel tilted his head but lifted his own hand, and Dean hooked their pinkies together. "You do this when you promise something."

"I see," came the slow response, and Dean could see it happening like one of those bloody car accidents you can't look away from: Castiel was going to come out with something completely girly and inappropriate. He could see it coming, but he couldn't think of anything to say to head it off at the pass.

Fortunately, Sam had inherited the brains in the family. "So opening the portal to Purgatory is out. There must be some other avenue we haven't considered. Some other angel that's capable of Raphael's power, or... Crowley's been hunting the Alphas to try and figure out where Purgatory is. He's tortured some of their kids to get the locations of the Alphas. Maybe they would be willing to help."

"Help a couple of hunters that have killed more monsters than Crowley?" Dean said, finally letting his pinkie slide free. He pretended not to notice that Castiel looked disappointed at that. "I don't see that happening."

"There are no other archangels," Castiel added. "Raphael is the last."

"And you're 100% sure Gabriel is dead?"

"I, and all of the other angels, felt his loss."

"But does that mean he's really dead? I mean, Gabriel wouldn't be the first angel to pull a disappearing act. Balthazar did, too," Dean pointed out. "And he didn't pull out his grace like Anna did. So there must be ways to fool your Host into thinking that certain angels are dead."

"I'm not certain an archangel would be capable of that," Castiel said slowly, but it was clear that Dean had gotten his gears grinding. "But I suppose... he was able to do it once, and no one would have expected him to go into an encounter with Lucifer and survive. Lucifer was always one of the strongest of the archangels, and as far as I know no one ever searched for Gabriel after he died. So... I guess it would be possible that he's relying on that to help stay hidden."

"What if we summoned him?" Bobby suggested.

"I don't think it would work if we used the traditional sigils. There has been no sign of Gabriel's grace; either he is dead or he has hidden it as effectively as he always did before, and back then even Michael was unable to get him to appear. However, we know that he has been hiding as the Norse God Loki for all of this time. That is as much a part of him now as his grace. So if you were to summon him by that name..."

"We'd known for sure," Sam filled in, looking excited by the possibility. His eyes were gleaming in that familiar way that meant he was itching to get his hands on a book as soon as possible. "Cas, that's an _awesome_ idea. Most of the people who knew that Gabriel was Loki are dead. I doubt any angel or demon would've thought to summon him that way."

"Do you really think that Gabriel's been hiding all this time?" Dean asked, not sure why the idea sat wrong with him. Except in the end, it had seemed like Gabriel was really intent on siding with them. He was an asshole, but he'd also saved their lives and helped to stop the apocalypse by giving them the right information. After that night, Dean and Sam had toasted him with a single shot of expensive whiskey and, at least in Dean's case, privately chalked him up as one more friend lost.

Sam dropped his gaze, some of his excitement visibly diminishing. "I don't know. I would say I hope not, except that if he was it would give us a major advantage over Raphael and Crowley and we could really use one of those right now."

"I'll start researching," Bobby said. "Only one way to find out."


	5. Chapter 5

It took a few days of researching through some pretty obscure books before Sam and Bobby found a spell that would allow them to summon Gabriel by the name of Loki... provided, of course, that he was still alive and hadn't been killed by Lucifer. As far as Dean was concerned that was a big _if_ , especially because he couldn't help wondering what would happen if it turned out that Gabriel was alive. If he was, it meant he'd abandoned them to deal with the Apocalypse and let them believe he was dead.

That was the kind of betrayal that would be almost impossible to get over, especially when Dean looked at the hope in his little brother's eyes.

But much as he hated to admit it, this was the only chance they had. They were scraping the bottom of the barrel with this one, but there was no way in hell he was going to let Castiel continue working with Crowley, which meant that another archangel was pretty much the only way they were going to keep Apocalypse 2.0 from happening. 

The unfortunate part of it was that Castiel had to leave so that he could gather the necessary ingredients for the spell.

Dean thought he did a pretty good job of pretending that didn't bother him when Sam first mentioned that some of the ingredients were pretty hard to find. As in, the only spell that he and Bobby could find required a select handful of ingredients that there was literally no way for a human to get to because said ingredients had been wiped out of existence thousands of years ago. They needed those ingredients and Castiel was both handy and willing: it made sense to send him.

What didn't make sense was the almost physical ache that took hold of Dean's chest when he thought about Castiel leaving for an period of time. No matter how often he told himself that the angel would definitely return if only to drop off the ingredients for the spell, there remained the faint niggle of doubt in the back of his head. Castiel had left him before and shown no signs of coming back, so what if this time he realized how much better off he was without the rest of them - without _Dean_ dragging him down and left for good? 

Dean could handle it. God knew he'd been left behind before, and after a certain amount of times you came to expect it. But the kids? They were half-angel, for one thing, and he had no clue how to go about hatching the eggs, never mind raising them. Beyond that, Dean was of the firm opinion that no one deserved to grow up with just one parent if it was at all avoidable. He dreaded the thought that he might be the reason for his kids growing up with just one shitty parent, that someday he'd have to sit them down and explain that he had driven their father away. He wanted Castiel to stay.

Still, it was more important that Castiel go.

There was a slight chance he was a hell of a lot more transparent than he would ever admit to, though, because when he stumbled downstairs the next morning after a sleepless night spent watching over his eggs, Balthazar was standing beside Sam and both of them were bent over Bobby's desk. Sam was pointing to a line in a book and Balthazar was scowling, his arms folded across his chest in a stance that was rapidly becoming (annoyingly) familiar. Dean stopped on the stairs and frowned at them in bemusement.

"Hey Dean," Sam said without looking up, flipping to the next page in the book. "No, look. It says right here you need -"

"I can read," Balthazar snapped. "And I'm telling you, regardless of what it says, the translation is incorrect. You'll have every pagan god within a thousand mile radius trying to kill us if you use-" He rattled off some weird Latin thing that Dean had never heard of.

Sam blanched, rocking back in his chair, and Dean spoke up. "How can you be so sure?"

Balthazar rolled his shoulders in a weirdly human way as he turned his head. The intensity in his gaze as he stared at Dean was overwhelming, and it took everything Dean had not to squirm with discomfort. After all, the last time Balthazar had seen him, he'd basically been in the beginning stages of angel labor. 

Fuck, that was a disturbing thought.

"I'm sure," Balthazar said flatly. "I've done this before."

"You've summoned a pagan god before?" Sam asked.

Instead of responding to Sam, Balthazar stepped away from the desk and towards Dean. His eyes had lowered, locking in on the eggs Dean held in his arms. "Lovely set of nephilim you have there, Winchester."

Even though they were still swaddled in the trench coat and thus shouldn't have been able to be seen, Dean instantly tensed. It wasn't really a threat, per se, but the hair had risen on the back of his neck and he found himself scanning the room for possible escape routes. He was on the third step up of the staircase and chances were slim he'd be able to make it back up the steps to the nest, but that wouldn't stop him from trying. Fighting wasn't preferable, not when he had two very breakable eggs he had to protect.

"Balthazar."

Castiel appeared in the room before he'd uttered the final syllable, standing so close to his brother that there was barely an inch between them. There was a very long moment during which the two angels just looked at each other, like they were having one of those silent conversations, and Sam glanced at Dean. The expression on his little brother's face could not have been more clear.

RUN.

But Dean didn't move. He didn't trust Balthazar farther than he could throw him, but he did believe that Castiel was strong enough to handle him if necessary. And while he wasn't convinced that Castiel was 100% trustworthy yet, there was no denying that the angel was extremely protective of the eggs. There was no doubt in Dean's mind that if Balthazar tried anything while Castiel was close, there would be an angel blade in his back faster than Dean could blink.

"Fine," Balthazar said suddenly, breaking the heavy silence. "I'll just go collect your ingredients, shall I?"

"Don't take too long," Castiel said.

Balthazar made a face and vanished. Sam protested, "He didn't take the list with him."

"It's fine, Sam," Castiel told him, glancing at the books that Sam and Bobby had been working their way through. "He has the list memorized. It will only take him a few hours to collect everything, and we will be able to do the spell tonight. You should begin preparing the panic room."

Sam didn't move right away, darting a quick look at Dean. Only once he seemed certain that Dean was okay did he pick up a couple of the books on the desk and head towards the stairs. Castiel turned then, and Dean met his gaze. Most of the time he tried not to think about what happened while he was giving birth. But Balthazar's comment had made him remember a couple of things. Key things. And he wanted some answers, right now before anything else happened to distract him.

"He was right," he said.

"Dean?"

"Balthazar was right. They are nephilim, aren't they? And I might not know much about religion or the bible, but weren't all the nephilim..." Dean couldn't even bring himself to say it. He held the eggs tighter, mindful of how fragile they were. It was bad enough that his children were Winchesters, and that as it was every supernatural creature on Earth would already want to kill them, but to know that every angel would be trying to destroy them just for existing? He wanted to throw up. 

Castiel sighed. "Technically, yes. They are nephilim. But traditionally nephilim were born from women, not men, and that is what God outlawed."

"So we haven't broken any rules."

There was a long pause, too long, and Dean's stomach twisted. 

"Are there gonna be angels trying to kill our babies, Cas?"

"Raphael's forces will try," Castiel said quietly. "I will not lie to you, Dean. I am hoping my brothers and sisters will understand the difference. But it is likely that he will use the existence of our children as proof that I have been wrong all along in an attempt to sway some of my supporters to his side instead." He took a careful step closer to Dean. "However, you are no longer fully human, and that alone should be argument enough."

Dean lifted his head a little, suddenly feeling very tired. Castiel had alluded to this once before, but he'd kinda been hoping that exhaustion and pain had made him remember wrong. Of course, that wasn't the case. "Do I even want to know what you mean by that?"

"Probably not."

The answer was brutally honest, and in spite of himself Dean allowed a bitter smile. "Am I turning into a dick with wings? I remember you saying something about a nesting mother when I was... you know..."

"I'm not sure," Castiel confessed.

"What do you mean, you're not sure?"

"This is unprecedented. Angels have not walked on Earth for over a thousand years. It's been even longer since a human has been taken as an angel's mate, never mind children. That was why I did not connect the pieces of what was happening to you sooner. Since then much has changed, including the departure of our Father." He lifted a hand, correctly guessing Dean's next question. "But before that... based on what little I know, I would say that there is a strong possibility that you may eventually become at least partially an angel."

"How?" It was the only thing that he could think to ask.

"When I raised you from perdition, I left a small fragment of my grace within you. It was not my intention, but your soul was so fractured by what you had been through that it was the only way for me to repair it. It forged a bond between us, and when we mated that bond grew even stronger. I suspect that as a result of your soul's proximity to my grace, that fragment of grace has been growing. While you were pregnant the eggs were feeding on it, so you didn't notice the effects as much. But now that you have given birth..."

"It's gonna keep going," Dean said dumbly, horrified. "Holy shit, Cas. I'm turning into a dick!"

Castiel's mouth twitched, but he seemed to have enough sense to realize that Dean wouldn't appreciate a smile right then. "I hardly think you're turning into a dick, Dean. I'm not even certain what abilities you will end up with, but you still have a soul. That's not going to change."

"That's comforting," Dean muttered, visions of wings dancing through his head. Shit, why the hell couldn't he keep it in his pants? None of this would have happened if he hadn't slept with Castiel that one time, but it had been the end of the world and he hadn't thought there would be any consequences. Figured he'd still managed to screw himself over. He eyed the angel suspiciously. "Did you mean it when you said I could tear an angel apart?"

"It's possible."

Okay, at least there was one benefit.


	6. Chapter 6

Castiel wasn't joking when he said it would take Sam a while to get the panic room ready. The most important thing he had to do was line the walls with Enochian symbols that would prevent any angels except for Castiel, Balthazar or Gabriel entering. The last thing they needed was Raphael or some other angel figuring out what they were doing, and even though Bobby's house was heavily warded, the extra precautions couldn't hurt. That took a lot of time because he had to be so careful to make each symbol right, and since he was using his own blood for the symbols he was exhausted by the time he was finished. 

He rested briefly when he was done, and then he took some holy oil and drew a large circle. This trap had caught Gabriel once and it could catch him again if necessary. Provided, of course, that the ritual worked. There was no guarantee that Gabriel was alive. Trying to summon him by Loki's name could well result in nothing. And if that happened, Sam wasn't sure what they were going to do. Letting Castiel go back to Crowley was out of the question. Dean and the children needed him too much.

"Come on, Gabe, you son of a bitch," Sam muttered, setting out several black candles that Bobby had given him. He wiped a hand across his forehead to get rid of the sweat, wincing a little when the strategically placed cut on his palm stung. 

It was weird to think that Dean had a kid, never mind two kids. Weirder still to think that they were half angels, and weren't actually kids yet. And the fact that they had actually come out of his brother was something Sam usually did his best _not_ to think about, because it made his brain want to bleed. Sam considered himself to be a pretty open, accepting person, but there were some things that just did not bear thinking about unless he wanted to stab himself in the eye.

He straightened up at the sound of footsteps on the stairs, half-expecting to see his brother. Instead it was Castiel. Sam didn't think it was his imagination that the angel looked a hell of a lot older now than he had even a year ago, but at least that woebegone, beaten puppy expression was gone. Things between him and Dean might not have been fully fixed, but Sam had his suspicions about how long that would last.

Maybe he'd been wrong to force a cookie cutter life on Dean. A simple civilian life was what Sam wanted, not Dean. But this twisted version actually had the potential to work if Dean would let it. Castiel was good for his brother and vice versa. No matter how much Dean would call him a girl if he ever said as much out loud, the two of them brought out the best in each other. And Dean really needed someone like that. Add in the two half angel kids that would be hatching in the next few months, and Sam thought his brother finally had a life he could actually deal with.

Provided, of course, they all lived through the next month.

Castiel stopped just inside the door and surveyed the room critically, examining the symbols with a practiced eye. Finally, he said, "It looks very well done, Sam. Gabriel will be fully hidden from heaven."

"Good," Sam said. "And with the holy fire, there will no chance for him to escape. Though I think we should use that as a last resort, Cas. I don't exactly think Bobby would appreciate us burning his house down because we were trying to trap an archangel."

"I don't think you'll need to worry. Once Gabriel realizes that we have him here, I doubt he will try to run. But should it come to that, Balthazar and I will be able to keep the house from burning," Castiel told him. His mouth twitched into a wry smile. "I tried to convince Dean to stay upstairs, but he refused, and his presence alone may prove persuasive."

Sam paused in the middle of reaching out to light another candle. "Dean is that strong?"

"Mating is not something to be taken lightly, Sam." Castiel's eyes took on an unfocused look, like he was looking off at something Sam couldn't see. "It... used to be that the mate of an angel was protected and coddled as fiercely as any nestling, particularly human mates that could give birth. Granted this was years ago when I was still a fledgling myself, but Gabriel is an archangel and he would remember better than I. The eggs and Dean may help to keep him under control."

"Oh," said Sam, a little surprised and probably doing a shitty job of hiding it. As far as he could tell, the angels they had met weren't exactly welcoming when it came to humans. And they had to have seen a mating between Dean and Castiel coming; God knew the two of them hadn't exactly gone out of their way to be subtle about it.

"The mate of an archangel would be particularly well received," Castiel added.

He knocked over a lit candle and swore loudly, scrambling to grab it before he set the holy oil on fire too. His face was flushed tellingly as he bent over the candle, pretending to be preoccupied with setting it to rights. What had happened between him and Gabriel was a secret, or at least it was supposed to be, and then only on a handful of occasions because he and Dean had been practically living out of each other's pockets at the time. He'd always made sure that no one was around, especially Dean and Castiel.

The angel was watching him, intent and unblinking. "Your thoughts are loud," he said, not unkindly. "I know Dean asked me not to listen to your thoughts and I do my best, but sometimes the two of you are vocal and I can't help but hear them." 

"It's fine," Sam mumbled, mortified. "It wasn't... anything like that, Cas. Gabriel and I were just messing around, that's all. It's not like you and Dean."

Castiel sighed. "Right now, it's not like that between me and Dean, either."

"He's come a long way," Sam pointed out. "He's been letting you in the room at night, and he hasn't even tried to stab you once. He'll come around. I know my brother. Even if you guys didn't have a couple of kids on the way, he really likes you. You're his best friend, Cas, and I can tell that there's something between you guys that Dean didn't have with anyone else."

"Thank you, Sam," Castiel said, and he really did look pathetically grateful for the encouragement. "I will continue trying to prove to Dean that I can be trusted."

"That's all you can do," Sam told him, giving the angel a friendly clap on the shoulder. A little grateful that he had successfully diverted the conversation from him and Gabriel, he finished lighting the candles and stood back. When Balthazar returned with the ingredients for the ritual, he would be able to finish. It wasn't a terribly complicated ritual, it just required some obscure ingredients and very careful phrasing, which was why Castiel would be the one to perform it.

Or so Sam thought, right up until they were all gathered in the room and Balthazar had come back with the ingredients. Bobby and Dean were standing on one side of the room and Balthazar was on the other, mostly because it was easiest to keep them separate. Castiel was carefully mixing the contents of a pure copper bowl. The very last thing to be added was an angel feather. The one he produced was a beautiful shade of deep black, the sort of color that reflected no light whatsoever.

Then he turned and handed the whole mess to Sam.

"Add in three drops of your blood," he said.

"That wasn't on the list," Bobby objected.

"No, but Sam's bond with Gabriel means that his blood will make the ritual that much stronger. It may also mean that Gabriel fights the summoning less."

"His what?" Dean sputtered, his head snapping up to stare at Sam. "You have a _what_ with that little douchebag?"

"Relax, Dean. _I'm_ not about to get pregnant anytime soon," Sam said, accepting the bowl without much argument. Carelessly he slashed his knife across his palm, reopening the wound he'd created earlier. His blood welled up and it was easy to squeeze the required three drops into the bowl. 

"I'm going to kill him," Dean muttered.

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother and stepped into the circle of holy oil, rapidly drawing the symbols on the floor while Castiel spoke in harsh, guttural barks, uttering the words of the spell in a language that made Sam's throat hurt to even think about pronouncing. The second he'd drawn the last symbol, Sam took a hasty step backwards and Bobby held up the lighter in his hand, ready to throw it down at the slightest provocation.

If any of them were expecting something dramatic, though, they were going to be disappointed. In between one blink and another the air shifted and suddenly Gabriel was just _there_. Sam didn't breathe, couldn't even blink again as he stared, too afraid that Gabriel might disappear again if he did. 

On the surface Gabriel didn't look very different. He was wearing jeans and a black button-down shirt underneath a black leather jacket. His hair was slicked back and he wasn't smiling, not even the tell-tale quirk to his lips that always hinted at amusement. But the way he looked at them - his eyes roamed slowly from Sam to Castiel to Balthazar to Bobby to Dean and back again without any recognition whatsoever.

Right about then, Sam got a sinking feeling.

"I have to admit this is a surprise," Gabriel said finally, crossing his arms. "Though I'm having trouble imaging what two angels and three hunters could want with little old me."

"Really?" Dean said, scowling. "You faked your death and you can't imagine why we'd want to have a word with you?"

Both of Gabriel's eyebrows rose. "Sounds like a lot of fun, but I've never faked my death before. Where's the fun in that? Pretending to be dead sounds like a lot of work."

"Something's wrong," Sam whispered.

"Indeed." Balthazar stepped a little closer, though still well out of the way of the holy fire. His eyes were narrowed. "I can't sense any grace at all."

"He's probably got it cloaked," said Bobby.

"Ooooor I don't have any 'cause only angels have grace," Gabriel drawled. "Anyone want to explain to me why you summoned a Pagan God when you clearly wanted something completely different? You're wasting my time here, you know."

"Of course you have grace. You're an archangel," Dean said, though he looked uncertain.

Gabriel laughed unpleasantly. "An archangel? Me? Whoo boy, I don't know where you got your research done but you want to get your money back. My name is Loki. I'm a God. Angel is just about the last thing you could call me." And then he winked, adding with a smirk, "Unless you have some kinks you want to talk about. You're pretty, for a human."

Dean looked sort of horrified and Castiel's expression rapidly dropped into smite-worthy territory. "That is not why we called you here," he practically snarled.

"Oooh, did I hit on a sore spot?" Gabriel asked gleefully, obviously taking a closer look at the two of them. "Mated, huh? I'd say mazel tov, but I'm not really one for being tied down so really I just think you're crazy."

Sam's chest ached. His throat was strangely tight. "You don't remember anything, do you?"

Those familiar, golden eyes swung back his way instantly. Sam stared into them desperately, hoping for some sign that Gabriel was just playing a horrible joke. But there was nothing, no sign of the vulnerable archangel he'd once gotten to know. Just a cocky, asshole trickster who didn't seem to be inclined to do anyone any favors anytime soon.


	7. Chapter 7

All that work and they were _still_ screwed. Dean scowled down at his breakfast and angrily stabbed a piece of pancake with his fork, shoveled it into his mouth with a grunt, and started chewing with his mouth open just because Sam wasn't there to tell him off. No, for the past two weeks - ever since they're summoned Gabriel, sorry, _Loki_ \- his baby brother and Bobby had had their noses trapped in books, trying to figure a) how Loki had survived, and b) how he could have lost his grace and his memory in the process.

Because Loki sure as hell wasn't helping the situation. He still didn't remember a damn thing, not that it had affected his shitty taste of humor any. Either that, or he was doing a good job of rolling on with one of the world's worst practical jokes. Until they figured out which, he was still locked up in Bobby's panic room. It was mostly for his own safety. If Dean had to listen to one more cracked joke, he was going to snap.

Unfortunately, no one was any closer to some answers. Not even Castiel and Balthazar had been having any luck. According to Castiel, an archangel tearing out their grace would have caused a huge reaction. Epic. As in the kind of reaction that would have been impossible to miss, both on the global and heavenly scales. So the answer couldn't be as simple as Gabriel having torn out his grace to hide from Lucifer and accidentally losing his memory in the process.

Of course it couldn't, Dean reflected sourly. Nothing in their lives could _ever_ be that simple; there was just no such thing as an easy answer when it came to being a Winchester. The only thing they actually had going for them right now was that Raphael and Crowley were being pretty quiet, and there was no telling how long that was going to last. For all they knew, there was an archangel teaming up with the King of Hell right at this moment and there wasn't a damn thing Dean could do about it.

He stopped mauling his breakfast when he heard footsteps behind him, though he didn't bother to turn around. He was already aware of who it was. He only looked up when the footsteps shuffled by. Even from the back, Castiel didn't look good. His shoulders had gained what seemed to be a permanent slump. The angel didn't even seem to notice that he was there, even though he must have: he just walked over to the coffee maker and poured himself a new cup with the stilted, jerky movements of a zombie.

"Goddamn, we really do ruin everything," Dean muttered to himself, a little perturbed to see that Castiel had such a fondness for coffee. If he didn't know better, he would've said that the guy was in need of a long sleep and that caffeine was the only thing keeping him up. But Castiel was an angel, and they had no need for sleep.

"Did you say something, Dean?" Castiel asked, turning to look at him. The weariness was even more evident in his haggard face and tired blue eyes, and it made something deep in Dean's chest hurt.

"Yeah, Cas. You don't look so great."

"I'm fine."

"Really? Cause you don't seem like you're fine."

Castiel dropped his gaze, staring into the coffee as though it might offer him answers if he only searched deep enough. "I betrayed you," he said quietly. "By making a deal with Crowley and not telling you about Raphael. And now even when I am attempting to make up for it..." His voice trailed off and he hunched in on himself a little more. "I am no longer sure what to do to prove to you that I am sorry."

He must have swallowed something wrong. That was the only explanation for why the ache in his chest that had spread to his throat was now making it difficult to breathe. "Stop being an idiot."

"What?" Castiel jerked, startled.

"You don't need to keep apologizing. And I don't know where you got this idea that you need to make it up to me." He stood up, uncomfortable with the thought, and continued only because it seemed as though Castiel might protest. "I mean it. You fucked up, but you admitted it. Sure it was only because of extenuating circumstances, but you're still _here_ , Cas. That's what matters to me, okay? Stop beating yourself up."

"Dean..."

"Besides," Dean added, dumping the rest of his food in the garbage and putting his plate in the sink. He'd officially lost his appetite. "You're sure as hell not the only one naive enough to fall for what a demon says." He smiled self deprecatingly, remembering those first few weeks with Ruby. When she'd led them all on, letting him believe that she actually had a way to save him from hell. Not to mention Sam, who'd fallen for her charms hook, line and sinker.

And there his mind went again, equating Castiel and Crowley with Sam and Ruby. He shuddered.

"Dean," Castiel repeated, touching his arm. Dean turned to look at him quickly, not sure why he was still surprised to find the angel closer than personal space would've said was okay. Castiel stared at him for several long moments like now he was trying to find the answers in Dean instead of his coffee, and all Dean could do was stare back.

Right up until Sam walked in. Or started to. Because he froze halfway in the door, his eyes darting between Castiel and Dean, and he sounded strange when he said, "Uh, should I come back later?"

"No," Dean said, rolling his eyes, and gently pulled his arm free. He purposely elbowed his brother as he walked out. Sam had been watching the eggs, but Dean knew without asking that they were now upstairs with Bobby. Mostly because he'd threatened to tear Balthazar's arm off if the guy tried to touch them, and from the look on Balthazar's face he'd actually taken the threat seriously.

He started to take the steps two at a time and stopped short at the faint flutter of wings. By the time he reached the top of the stairs, now moving much more slowly, there was an angel in his way. Only this time, an expression of determination had replaced the weariness in Castiel's face. 

"Dean," he said insistently, and there were _so many_ times Dean could've used the old 'that's my name, don't wear it' line by now. "I need to ask you something."

"Ask away," Dean said, figuring he wasn't going to get by until Castiel had asked.

"I want to take you out."

"You wanna... what?" Dean squeaked. Suddenly he flashed back to the kitchen and the way Sam had been looking at them, and he narrowed his eyes. "Did Sam put you up to this?"

Castiel rolled his eyes. "No. While Sam did suggest that we could use some time outside of Bobby's house to ourselves, the idea had already occurred to me." He looked up at Dean and yeah, he was doing it again, that thing where his eyes went all wide and blue. "That night... I enjoyed myself. You did, too."

There was no need to ask what night Castiel was referring to. "Well yeah, Cas, I would hope your first introduction to sex was -"

"Not just that!" Castiel actually huffed, which was a little weird considering he didn't need to breathe. "I did enjoy claiming you, yes, but I also liked just _being_ with you. You are my friend as much as my mate. I was deeply uncomfortable at the brothel, but I would go back if it meant that I could see you laugh and smile the way you did after we left. I have not seen you so happy since that night, Dean. I miss your smile."

What the hell was Dean supposed to say to that? He knew he was blushing and he was really glad that they'd left the kitchen, because this was the sort of gooey, chick-flick moment Sam would never let him get away with. "Cas, I..."

"I understand if you do not want to," Castiel said. "But _I_ want to."

"Okay."

The word was out before Dean had really stopped to think about it, and once it was out there he couldn't take it back. Because Castiel's face lit up like God himself had just walked into the room and announced that he'd squashed Raphael and Crowley under his boot like bugs. And that tight feeling was back in Dean's throat, making him feel like he couldn't have spoken even if he wanted to.

"How about tonight? Sam has agreed to watch the eggs for us, and Balthazar will be nearby if there is trouble," said Castiel.

"That's fine," Dean said thickly. 

Castiel flashed him a smile. "Good. I have to meet Balthazar, but I will be back tonight at 6pm."

He was gone then, and that was probably not a bad thing because Dean's knees felt a little weak. Good lord, he'd just been asked out on a date by an angel. And he'd said yes. Of course, it was really nothing compared to the fact that he was already technically married to said angel and had two children with him, but still.

This was different. The first time hadn't been an accident necessarily, but Dean hadn't planned it and he was willing to put money down that Castiel hadn't either. It just sort of... happened. The two of them had left the brothel and ended up back at the hotel room, where one thing led to another. He could blame it on adrenaline running high, but the truth was that a part of him had wanted it. He hadn't really known that until they were already kissing, bodies pressed together, but it was still true.

Anything that happened between them from here on out would definitely be planned. He wasn't exactly opposed to that, so long as there was some sort of mojo Castiel could use that would keep him from getting pregnant again. But he wasn't sure he was ready for it, either. Even putting aside all the shit with Crowley and Dean's laughable attempt at a relationship with Lisa, they had still been apart for over a year. And while he was slowly reaching the point where he felt like he could maybe trust Castiel again, he didn't think he was all the way there yet.

He grimaced a little, realizing that he was agonizing over the date the way that a fourteen-year-old girl would. He was a grown man who was completely capable of telling someone he wasn't interested. If it even came to that. From the sound of it, Castiel just wanted to hang out. Though they certainly wouldn't be going to be a brothel. Dinner and maybe a movie sounded way more up Dean's alley, and if Castiel wanted more... well, he'd deal with that if it happened. He pushed himself off the wall and straightened up.

"Hey Dean."

Dean froze and looked over his shoulder. Much to his horror, Sam was standing at the bottom of the stairs. There was no telling how long his brother had been there, but judging from his grin it had been a while.

"I just have one question," Sam said.

"What?" Dean asked warily.

Somehow, Sam managed to make himself look completely serious when he asked, "Would you like me to do your hair and make-up before your date tonight?"

"Oh fuck you," Dean said, stomping down the hall to the tune of his brother's hysterical laughter. His face was burning even hotter than before. It was definitely time to revisit dumping some Nair into Sam's bottle of shampoo.


	8. Chapter 8

Balthazar was not having an easy time of dealing with heaven. Most of the angels who had been willing to follow Castiel were suspicious of an angel that had faked his death in order to leave, and more than a few had defected - either to Raphael’s side, or to be neutral. Castiel was aware that if he didn’t rejoin the war soon, Raphael was going to win. Of course, even if he did, Raphael was still going to win. It just meant that they might be able to put off the inevitable for a little longer.

Shortly before his date with Dean, not long after his depressing meeting with Balthazar, Castiel went down to the panic room by himself. Gabriel - or Loki, as he insisted on being called, was sitting right in the middle of the room flipping idly through a magazine. It was hard to say whether someone had slipped it to him or whether he’d conjured it up. Knowing how Sam had felt - still felt - about Gabriel, Castiel almost hoped it was the latter. It would be a disaster if Loki were to manipulate the younger Winchester in any way, and that’s exactly what would happen if he were to find out.

He opened the door, which wouldn’t break the seal, and stepped just inside. Loki didn’t look up at him, even after Castiel cleared his throat. Finally, he said awkwardly, “Hello, Gabriel.”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t heaven’s littlest angel.” Loki threw aside his magazine, which vanished before it hit the seal. At least that was one question answered. Too bad it meant that Loki was still capable of using his powers even inside the trap. It didn’t bode well.

“Do you remember me?” Castiel asked straight off, the same thing he asked every time he walked in. Gabriel was an asshole sometimes, and there had been more than a few times when Castiel just wanted to smite him off the face of the Earth, but he was also the only angel that had ever helped him to protect the Winchesters. The only _arch_ angel that actually gave a damn about humanity. 

Loki stared at him for a moment. “You know, you do a great puppy look. Sometimes it almost makes me want to say yes, except for the fact that I have no idea what you’re talking about because we’ve never met before.”

His momentary hopes dashed, Castiel sighed. “I did not think so,” he muttered. Whatever had stolen Gabriel’s memories was strong. He genuinely had no idea who any of them were. Mentioning Lucifer and Michael only brought forth a blank expression, like he couldn’t figure out why the hell he should care.

One morning about three days after they summoned him, Sam had sat down and told Loki the whole story. That he was an archangel who had fled heaven because of the constant feuding and hidden on Earth for thousands of years. That he wasn’t really a pagan god, that part was just pretend, and that not too long ago he had helped them avert the Apocalypse by sacrificing his life. Sam had carefully omitted the part where they weren’t sure if Gabriel had actually died or not.

The story didn’t seem to help. It certainly hadn’t jogged any memories. Loki had listened to the whole thing with an unusually grave expression and then burst into laughter, not stopping until he cried. 

“Look, bro,” Loki said, and then nickname was so familiar that the heart of Castiel’s vessel skipped a beat. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not the archangel you’re looking for. You said it yourself, he died fighting against Lucifer. Maybe he told you that he was hiding as Loki all this time, but he wasn’t. Not that I blame him for trying to take credit. I mean, I am pretty awesome.” He preened.

“If you died, then Father brought you back,” Castiel said, giving voice to the private theory he had been contemplating for some time now. Everyone else seemed to be of the opinion that Gabriel had faked his death again, only to somehow lose his memories. Castiel wasn’t so sure. After all, God had seen fit to bring him back after his death at Lucifer's hands at the cemetery, so it wasn’t so inconceivable to think that Gabriel might have been granted the same leniency.

For a moment, a strange expression flitted across Loki’s face. But it was gone again as fast as it had come, and he sounded flippant when he said, “No offence, but I haven’t had any dealings with your God and I don’t plan to. Anyone who thinks he needs to create a couple thousand followers with the sole purpose of falling all over themselves to kiss his ass doesn’t sound like my kind of guy.”

Castiel twitched at the description, though he did not reprimand Loki for saying it. It might have been blasphemy, but pagan gods fell into that tricky sort of grey area that meant they could pretty much say whatever they liked without fear of consequence. “It’s true that you have not seen Him for some time. No one has.”

“He’s M.I.A., huh?” Loki asked, not sounding terribly sympathetic. “Tough break, kiddo.”

Another familiar nickname. It stung, though Castiel couldn’t put his finger on why. It made his chest ache to look at the face of his brother and know that Loki did not recognize him. “You need to remember, Gabriel. We need you.”

Loki scowled. “I’m not Gabriel, so stop calling me that.”

“You _are_ Gabriel!”

“ _I am not Gabriel!_ ”

He hadn’t even realized that they were both shouting until Castiel heard footsteps behind him, and then Dean yanked opened the door. Sam was right behind him. Dean demanded, “What the hell is going on?”

“I’m done talking,” Loki said, his scowl deepening into something verging on terrifying. “Get the fuck out of here before I make you.”

“Come on, Cas,” Dean said, grabbing him by the arm. Castiel went, though he didn’t want to. Sam slipped by him into the panic room as Dean drew him away, back up the steps into the warmth of the house and then outside onto the front porch.

Though there was really no reasoning behind it, Castiel found himself sitting down on the front steps. After a moment of hesitation Dean sat down beside him, close enough that their shoulders and thighs were brushing. The contact felt good. It was even better when Dean, determinedly staring straight ahead, reached over and put a hand on his knee. Dean’s hand was hot, his skin slightly tanned, the nails neatly trimmed though dirty with grease. Castiel stared at that hand until Dean broke the silence.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t...” Dean trailed off, shaking his head. “Cas, you just pissed off someone who thinks they're a pagan god and you don’t know why? You got a death wish I need to know about? Cause I feel I should remind you, I’m not into the whole solo parent thing.”

“I want him to remember that he’s Gabriel,” said Castiel, not bothering to dignify Dean’s question with an answer. 

“Well, yeah. You wanna get Raphael off your ass. I get that. But -”

“That is part of it,” Castiel muttered, so quietly that he wasn’t even sure Dean had heard, but the hand on his knee tightened and he knew that Dean had. “I don’t... understand it, Dean. I don’t like that he has no recollection of me, but I’m not sure why.”

“Dude,” Dean said, and he sounded a little exasperated. “He’s your brother. I’m not sure what I would do if Sammy couldn’t remember who I was, but it wouldn't be good.”

“That is illogical. You only have one brother. I have many brothers and sisters,” Castiel countered. 

“You have a lot of dicks, is what you have. Cas, I know you call all the other angels your brothers and sisters, but they’re not really. Not like me and Sammy. You don’t even know most of them, but you knew Gabriel. And yeah he was a dick most of the time, but he was still your brother. Your big brother, even.” Dean shrugged, looking increasingly uncomfortable. “If you’re anything like the big girl I have for a little brother, you probably... I don’t know, man, you’re looking for comfort. That’s all.”

Castiel stared at him, even though he knew it was increasing Dean’s level of discomfort. It sounded weird. It sounded distinctly human. He wasn’t sure he was comfortable with either. “I have never gone to Gabriel for... comfort.”

“Yeah, well. Even if he gets his memory and mojo back, it's probably not something you should start.” Dean squeezed his knee even tighter, then let go and stood up. “But you know, um... you can always... you know... talk to me. About the war with Raphael, or whatever you're worried about.”

"I thought you didn't like chick flick moments," said Castiel, quoting something he had often heard Dean complain about.

"We're two married dudes with a couple of kids on the way. Pretty sure we've living one," Dean mumbled, though the back of his neck was steadily turning bright red. "Look, I just meant -"

"I know what you meant." And Castiel did. He was aware that Dean's offer was not entirely selfless, that Dean was still worried that he might be hiding something, but he still appreciated it. He was not accustomed to having someone to speak to, but the thought was, yes, comforting. He stood up too and stepped closer to Dean, pressing a hand to his back at the same time that he leaned in and kissed Dean's cheek. "Thank you, Dean."

Dean sputtered. "You, uh, you - you're welcome."

"Are you ready to leave for our date?" Castiel inquired.

"Um, yeah." Dean stopped and visibly took a deep breath. "Eggs are upstairs with Bobby. Let's roll."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's only been a month since I updated this story, a month which included the holidays _and_ the new year, not to mention I have not been in a very good place emotionally and mentally. Though I know most of you mean well, comments asking whether I've 'abandoned this story' or about whether or not I'll 'ever update again' are not encouraging. In fact, it is the exact opposite. I do not abandon stories; if they go on hiatus you will be notified. Otherwise please be patient and remember that as a writer of fanfiction, I do my best at something that is time consuming and freely offered. 
> 
> Also, remember that if you want updates or notifications you can visit my [tumblr](http://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/).

It was only after they were both standing beside the car that it occurred to Dean that he hadn't really done any planning for the date. He'd been so preoccupied with worrying about what would happen afterwards that he hadn't thought about what they were going to do during it - and that definitely posed a problem. 

What, exactly, were you supposed to do with a supernatural being that was thousands of years old and had probably seen just about everything? Granted, Castiel was clearly not familiar with pop culture, so a movie was always an option... but he had a hard time imagining the angel at a movie theatre. Especially not with how twitchy the man had been lately. The last thing they needed was Castiel deciding someone was a threat and trying to stab an unsuspecting movie-goer.

He started to unlock the door of the car, deciding that they might as well start with dinner somewhere in Sioux Falls, when Castiel reached out and placed a hand on his wrist to stop him. "I know you enjoy driving," Castiel said with a small smile. "But I had thought that we might not have need of the Impala tonight."

"Angel air?" Dean guessed with an inward grimace. He hadn't been kidding about how long it took his body to get back to normal every time Castiel chose to zap them somewhere, and he'd only recently started feeling like himself again as it was. 

Castiel's smile widened. "Don't worry, Dean. Ever since my... promotion... I've had an increase in mojo, as you would say. Not to mention, now that we're mated your body will be much more receptive to me. I'll be able to transport you with no harm to your reproduction system. But if you would prefer to stay here and do something in town, that's okay too."

"No, it's fine," Dean said slowly, some questions popping up in his mind about a few select parts of that spiel. "We can go wherever you want, Cas. Though I'd prefer... not over international water on the first night that we're leaving the kids." He felt a little embarrassed about sounding so overprotective, especially when the eggs were being watched over by Bobby, Sam and Balthazar - and possibly Loki, depending on if he felt like being helpful on any given day or not. But he couldn't shake the sense of unease that something would happen if he and Castiel were too far away.

The hand on his wrist slid down until Castiel could intertwine their fingers and give Dean's hand a warm squeeze. "Don't be embarrassed for feeling that way. That just means you're a good mother."

Dean rolled his eyes, less annoyed at the terminology than he thought he should be. "I've told you before to stay out of my head, Cas."

"Sorry. I didn't meant to read your thoughts. It's just... with our connection, you broadcast quite loudly now."

There was definitely a conversation to be had, but Dean didn't bring it up. It wasn't one he wanted to have in the middle of Bobby's front yard. Instead, he squeezed Castiel's hand back. "Okay then, surprise me."

He closed his eyes automatically, not wanting to become too disoriented, as the wind whipped around them both. It only lasted for a split second, and then he felt a hand being pressed to his lower back as the scent of brine hit him in the face. He found himself staring straight at the ocean when he dared to look. They were standing on a beach that was mostly deserted, there he could see some families on the sand about a hundred feet to their right. The waves were crashing so close that wet sand was inches away from Dean's right foot. A couple more minutes and both of them would be ankle deep in salt water.

"Do you know where we are?" Castiel asked.

"Uh..." The beach didn't have any landmarks that stood out to him, and God knew he and Sam had visited a fair amount of beaches over the years. 

"We're about twenty miles outside of Marin City."

Just the name of the city brought memories back to him. He'd been about eight years old when he, his dad and his brother came here for the first time. Sam was five and had never seen the ocean before. John wanted to come because there were rumors of a ghost - as it turned out, if Dean remembered correctly it was actually two ghosts competing over the same haunting space - and on the way out of the city, they'd stopped at the beach for a couple of hours. The reason it stood out to him so strongly was because of Sam's joy at seeing and swimming in the ocean with his big brother while John stood back and watched them. Afterwards, he'd treated them both to hamburgers and ice cream.

Dean twisted around to the left and this time, he spotted what he was looking for. The little stand had been there for a good forty years by now, but it still looked like it was in good shape. It even _looked_ the same, and he broke into a smile. "Jesus, Cas, how the hell did you find this place again?"

"I watched your life when I raised you from perdition, Dean," that husky voice murmured in his ear, and Dean had to tense to keep from shivering. "This was one of the few places that stood out to me where you were happy for a reason other than hunting. When I was trying to think of somewhere we could go, this seemed like a natural choice. I know how much you loved their hamburgers."

"The ice cream is even better," Dean said with an excited grin, not even bothered that Castiel had confirmed that he'd seen every dirty and sordid detail of his life. The implication - that Castiel had still decided to have sex with him, even knowing that it meant they would be mated, in spite of all that - was too much to think about right now. Instead, he set off across the sand pulling the angel along behind him.

The little shack was still open, and Dean ordered two cheeseburgers and fries and a basket of onion rings to share. The food was served up quickly and his tummy growled hungrily as they sat down at one of many available picnic tables. He picked up his burger and bit into it, chewing with gusto as he watched Castiel pick up a fry. Even the food tasted the same, somehow, though the last time he'd been here, he and Sam had shared their burger. He chuckled a little, remembering the fit little Sammy had thrown when Dean wanted onions on the burger and he didn't.

"I'd almost forgotten about this place," he admitted, grabbing an onion ring. "Sam and I haven't been back this way for a long time. We asked to come back a couple times when we were kids, but there was always something else that needed our attention."

"It's lovely," Castiel said. "I came here once to search for my Father."

He paused in the middle of stuffing some fries in his mouth. If there was one thing Castiel never talked about it was that, even though - presumably - God had been the one who brought him back to life in the cemetery. Dean had the feeling this was sensitive territory. "It's a nice place, Cas, but I don't think it would have been special enough for something like that."

"Sometimes it's not about the historical significance of a place, Dean. My Father found beauty in humanity. He would have enjoyed watching people have fun."

"Sounds like a peeping tom," Dean mumbled into another handful of fries. Judging by the way Castiel rolled his eyes, he'd caught the comment anyway. Of course he had. He chewed and swallowed, adding, "I'd like to bring Sammy back here someday. And I bet the kids would like it, too."

"Those children do seem to be enjoying themselves."

Dean turned, watching as a group of kids ran by. They were throwing a beach ball around. Most of them were probably around seven or eight years old, but there was also two little kids who looked to be about three or four. Both boys, they were trying their damndest to keep up with the older kids. It was adorable, especially when the two of them gave up and started building a sandcastle instead. 

By the time the kids were finished playing, called away by their parents, Dean was done eating and Castiel had successfully picked his way through his burger and fries, eating some parts and disregarding the remainder. Even though he wasn't really hungry, there was no way Dean was passing up the ice cream. He went up to the stand and ordered a double scoop, one of sea salt caramel and the other apple pie. He closed his eyes in bliss the first time he tasted the apple pie ice cream.

"This is heaven," he sighed, only remembering at the last moment that he was walking beside an angel. He took a peek at Castiel. "Or at least, it was a hell of a lot better than the heaven Sammy and I saw."

"Your heaven won't be like that anymore."

"It won't?"

Castiel shook his head. He wasn't looking at Dean. "We are mates. The bond between us... when you die, that doesn't vanish. We will still be connected."

"Right," Dean muttered. "Forever. That's what you said when I was..." He trailed off, stomach twisting at the memory of being in labor. Suddenly the ice cream didn't seem so appetizing. He was thinking about throwing his cone away when Castiel reached out and took it from him.

"Yes, Dean. Forever. Your life will be somewhat extended as a result of our bond, but eventually you will pass on. I will stay here on Earth with you for the most part until then, at which point we will return to heaven together. But we will still be together regardless." Castiel stuck his tongue out and tentatively licked the ice cream. His eyes crossed as he registered the cold, and Dean couldn't help it. 

He burst into laughter, doubling over, made worse by the look of confusion on Castiel's face. He was still laughing when he straightened up and reached out to grab that crooked tie. Gently, he reeled the - _his_ angel in and kissed him. Castiel tensed a little in surprise but reciprocated quickly, placing one hand on Dean's hip and holding the other at length so that he didn't drop ice cream down Dean's back. He tasted like apple pie and Dean couldn't stop smiling.


	10. Chapter 10

Something changed between Castiel and Dean after that date. Sam couldn't put his finger on what that something was, but it was obvious. The tension that had been there before was now next to non-existent, and in the coming weeks (and as the two of them went on another handful of dates) it only got worse. Or better, depending on how you looked at the situation. On the one hand, it meant that Dean no longer walked around looking like he'd been punched in the stomach. On the other hand, it meant Dean walked around looking like he'd been shot in the ass with a rogue Cupid's arrow.

Sam was torn between being happy for his brother and feeling downright jealous. It might not have been the kind of relationship he had envisioned either of them having when they were kids, but anyone with a pair of eyes could tell that Castiel was what made Dean happy. He didn't have to walk in on the two of them sitting _way_ too close on the couch to know that. 

But it also made him remember Jess and the future he'd once dreamt about having with her: kids, a family, a life worth protecting. She would have been such a great mom. It drove him to search through his duffle bag until he found the small box shoved into the deepest corner, and hide that box in his pocket where he could periodically look at the ring inside during the occasional stolen moment during the day.

Not that he let on that he was jealous in any way, shape or form. Dean deserved this after the literal hell that he had been through. There was just a bitter irony in the fact that, murderous archangel bent on the Apocalypse and the King of Hell searching for Purgatory aside, Dean was the one who had ended up married with two kids before the age of 40. Next thing Sam knew, his brother was going to be telling him that he was quitting the hunting business to open up a bakery or a mechanic's shop with his angel at his side. At this point, he wouldn't have been that surprised.

Not surprised, maybe, but a little disgusted.

"Do they have to do that where I can see them?" he complained, watching as his brother and his brother-in-law (and wasn't that a weird thought right there) stared into each other's eyes. No lie. They were honest to god staring soulfully at each other over a shared plate of breakfast. Neither one of them had blinked in over a minute. Did they not know or care that other people had to use the kitchen too?

"Newlyweds," Bobby said knowingly from where he was bent over a rusty old car. His voice was muffled, but still audible. "Happens to all of them. Best thing you can do is pretend they don't exist."

"I tried that," Sam muttered. "I'm pretty sure they would have started making out right in front of me if I hadn't jumped up." He tried not to sound like he was pouting, but it was hard because he was. Just a little bit. He wasn't 100% sure where Dean and Castiel's relationship was right now, but everything that was going on had to be a hell of a lot easier with an angel watching over you. He wouldn't know, though: the last angel who had watched over him wanted to, as Dean so eloquently put it, wear him to the prom in a bad way.

"You shoulda stayed quiet. At least they'd be locked away behind closed doors then."

"Eww, Bobby!"

"What d'you expect?" Bobby said, lifting his head and rolling his eyes. "They're _married_ , Sam."

"I know, but still. Eww. I've spent enough of my life trying not to think about Dean like that without you putting more images in my brain, thanks." He twisted automatically to check on the eggs. It was habit now, even when he wasn't actually the one looking after them, to have the occasional moment of panic when they weren't in his direct line of sight. Funny how quickly things like that became normal. Or scary, he wasn't sure which yet.

But the eggs were fine, cozily tucked into the little nest of towels Bobby had made for them a few weeks ago. Though they were, if Sam's eyes weren't mistaken, quite a bit larger than they had been, and recently a series of fine white lines had faded in. It was almost like the eggs were a puzzle someone had put back together and the white lines were where the edges fit together. The lines were becoming more visible by the day. He'd asked Castiel about them, but the angel had just told him it was normal. Sam suspected it meant that the eggs were close to hatching.

He knelt down on one knee, placing a hand on the green egg. It was warm to the touch, just like always, and not for the first time he found himself wondering what was going to happen if the eggs hatched while Raphael and Crowley were still running around. So far it was like a giant waiting game; the Apocalypse 2.0 except this time he and Dean weren't even important and if it weren't for the fact that a year ago his brother had hooked up with an angel, this whole battle could have played out without them even being aware of it. The world could have been blown to pieces and Sam would've been sitting here with his thumb up his ass.

"Did Rufus have any ideas?" he asked, already knowing what the answer was, hoping that it would be different anyway.

"No."

"Damn. How much longer can we keep Loki locked up in the panic room?"

"I try not to ask myself that question, boy. I like my house not flattened to the ground by pissed off pagan gods," Bobby muttered. He did something to the engine, and there was a loud hissing sound. Fluid began dripping on the ground. Sam wrinkled his nose at the smell.

"So we're just gonna sit around and let the world end again."

"Right now I don't see any other options, do you?"

Sam scowled in response. At least last time he'd been able to step up and take that bullet. What was he supposed to do now, go throw himself on Crowley's mercy? Beg him to help them stop Raphael? Tell him that after a month of radio silence, he and Dean had decided they wanted to help him find Purgatory after all? There was no way that would work. Crowley would kill them both if he had an ounce of sense, and he'd already proven that he was a lot smarter than the average demon. He wasn't going to be stupid enough to think that Sam or Dean would come to him with an actual interest in helping him get to Purgatory, even if he did help get rid of Raphael.

He stood up and walked back into the house without saying a word to Bobby. Castiel and Dean were _still_ staring, unbelievably, and he was pretty sure that neither of them noticed when he went by. He went down the stairs and reached for the lock on the panic room door. It was so familiar to him now that he didn't even need to look as he unlocked it. Which was a stupid move on his part, really, as that meant he wasn't prepared for the hands that grabbed his shoulders and wrenched him into the room.

His back made impact with the wall and Sam gasped, his teeth clicking together. Loki was looming over him, an interesting feat for someone that was a good foot and a half shorter than he was. Sam stared at him and then over his shoulder at the place where Loki was supposed to be. 

"How the hell -"

"That's the thing about traps," Loki interrupted, his mouth curved in a smirk that was painfully familiar. "Give enough time, eventually the prey figures out a way to get out. Your little angel is clever, darling, but not clever enough."

"He's not my angel," Sam said automatically, and okay maybe there was a _little_ trace of bitterness there.

The pressure pinning him to the wall eased up just a bit, enough so that he could breathe, and Loki looked at him with genuine interest. "Are you in love with him, then?"

Sam laughed. He couldn't help it. "Are you kidding me? You think I'd be that self destructive? I'm a lot of things, Loki, but I'm not _that_ bad. Castiel hasn't had eyes for anyone but my brother since he raised Dean from hell. It was pretty clear from day one that there was no point in even trying to get in the middle of that. He's my friend, yeah, but that's it." He paused, letting the amusement fade. "I had a different angel. Sort of. He wasn't really mine exactly. But what he let me have, I enjoyed."

He ached, remembering Gabriel. Remembering Jess. Two points of happiness in his otherwise shitty life, and one of his biggest regrets was thinking that Gabriel somehow meant less because what they'd had was different from what he'd had with Jess. Given the opportunity to see Gabriel again, and not just some pagan god wearing his face, Sam would've done his best to make up for that kind of stupidity. Too bad that kind of thinking was coming two years too late.

"I want to see."

"Why?" Sam blinked, catching the hand that was aimed for his head automatically, surprised when Loki let him pull his wrist down. He eyed the god warily, trying to figure out Loki's endgame. "You keep telling me you aren't Gabriel. So what difference does it make?"

"It doesn't," Loki said, shrugging. "Let me see."

He was childlike in his demand, and Sam was so tired he didn't have the strength to say no. He let go of Loki's wrist and closed his eyes, not tensing at the feel of a palm against his forehead. It was the only point of contact between them now, and the shape of that hand, smaller than that of the average male, was familiar. But the feel of it was not. Gabriel's hand had always burned hot, but Loki's hand was cool and clammy. 

Still, hating himself, he relaxed into it anyway.


	11. Chapter 11

Sam wasn't fully aware that he was holding his breath until the pressure against his forehead eased and he heard the sound of Loki stepping back. He opened his eyes and exhaled, meeting Loki's golden eyes with an increasing sense of unease. He was dying to ask what it was that the god had seen, because there was a lot he would have chosen if he'd been given the chance.

Because the thing about his relationship with Gabriel was, it was the little, unimportant bits that mattered the most. The way Gabriel always smiled when Sam walked into the room. The way he tasted like chocolate whenever they kissed. The way he teased Dean at every available opportunity and took Castiel under his wing the way a big brother should. The way he would lie and say he'd been gone doing stuff most of the night when it was obvious that he'd actually spent the whole time watching Sam sleep. The way he'd always been there to wake Sam up from a Lucifer-induced nightmare and hold him close until Sam was able to fall back asleep.

Had Loki seen any of that? Or had he only watched the things that mattered so much less, like the occasional help on a hunt, or the time Gabriel locked them in TV land, or Gabriel's so-called death at the hands of Lucifer? Much as he wanted to ask, he was afraid to know what the answer might be. Sam Winchester had never wanted _anything_ as much as he wanted Gabriel back, and he couldn't help broadcasting that thought so loudly that he was sure Castiel could hear it upstairs.

Loki's head tipped to the side and Sam's heart clenched as he was treated to a very scrutinizing stare. Then, after a few seconds that felt like more an eternity, the god said, "You always did think too loud. I know angels aren't supposed to get headaches, but man do I have one hell of a headache right now."

"You... what?" Sam said, convinced that he'd somehow misheard. Or that his ears were playing tricks on him. Because there was no way Loki had just referred to himself as an angel. Maybe this wasn't Loki at all. Maybe it was a shapeshifter, put there by Loki to mess with his mind. He tried to take a step back and failed, too close to the wall for that. He cursed himself inwardly for not having thought to come down with a weapon. Dean had yelled at him before for being so trusting of Loki just because he looked like Gabriel.

"Oh, Sam, no. Even when I didn't remember you, I wouldn't have hurt you."

He was pretty sure his heart stopped entirely that time. It was only the knowledge that he would be forever mocked if he fainted that kept him standing, even though the edges of the room started swimming in a grey haze. "G-Gabriel?"

"The one and only," Loki - no, _Gabriel_ said, lifting a hand to rub at his forehead. "Goddamn my Father has a horrible sense of humor."

"I don't... You..." Sam trailed off, his knees so weak that he might have fallen in spite of his determination to keep standing if Gabriel hadn't reached out and gripped his arm. The feel of that hand and the heat pouring off it was enough to convince him. It really was Gabriel. Ironically, he ended up slipping to his knees anyway, and he couldn't help a few muffled sobs as he reached out and wrapped his arms around Gabriel's hips, dragging him close enough that Sam could bury his face in Gabriel's belly. He felt Gabriel's hands come to rest on his hair just as the door to the panic room burst open.

"What the hell are you doing?" Dean shouted.

" _Dean_ ," Castiel said, barely a second later. He sounded as shocked as Sam felt. "That's not Loki."

Dean was a lot of things, but he wasn't as nearly as stupid as he claimed. "Gabriel?"

"Yeah," Gabriel said, forgoing the perfect opportunity to make a 'that's my name, don't wear it out' comment, and that if anything proved just how exhausted the archangel must have been. "It's me."

"How did this happen?" Castiel asked.

"I asked Sam if I could see what Gabriel was like," Gabriel explained. One of his hands was cupped around the back of Sam's head, helping to hide his tears, while the other slowly stroked his hair. "As soon as I touched him and opened up that conduit... Sam had my grace. It came back to me."

"What?" Sam choked, lifting his head to look up at the archangel through teary eyes. "I had your grace?"

"Yes. You're the only person I trust with it. I knew what Lucifer had planned. When I kissed you that last time, I hid most of my grace inside of you. I thought it would be enough to protect you even if I couldn't be here." Gabriel bit his lip, looking guilty. "Obviously that didn't work. I never thought that Father would have plans to resurrect me. Without my grace, I believed I was just a pagan god, and none of the other pagan gods that are still alive wanted to come near me long enough to set me straight. I guess now I know why."

"So wait, you went into a fight against Lucifer without most of your grace?" Dean said. "Dude."

"It was my choice, Dean. I'm sure that Castiel would have made the same one."

There was a short pause then, and Sam didn't know about everyone else but his mind was busy drawing an awful lot of parallels right then. Did Gabriel really put their relationship on par with Castiel and Dean's? Those two were literally closer than married, while he and Gabriel had never officially been more than friends with benefits. Although Sam had lost track of how many nights he'd spent wishing there had been more.

Gabriel's hand tightened on the back of his head and then let go with clear reluctance. "Thank you for that, Sam. If it hadn't been for you, I would've spent the rest of my eternal life never knowing who I really was."

"I didn't really do anything," Sam croaked, wiping his face hastily. He was embarrassed that he'd been crying and clinging to Gabriel like a little kid. He got to his feet and tried to compose himself.

"You did a lot more than you realize, kiddo. You were just interesting enough that even as Loki, I couldn't get you out of my head. No mortal ever intrigued me before you, and I guess that carried over," Gabriel said, smiling faintly. "Every time you came down here, even just for a minute, I felt the need to be near you. I was ready to leave tonight, but then you gave me permission to enter your memories. That was enough."

All this time and he'd been carrying a part of Gabriel with him. A part that Gabriel had _chosen_ to give him, even though it meant putting his own neck on the line. Sam was torn between grabbing and kissing Gabriel to within an inch of his life, or grabbing and shaking the dumbass until some sense rattled into his brain because he clearly was not thinking straight. Infuriatingly, Gabriel's smile only widened like he knew exactly what Sam was thinking about.

"You better not be planning on knocking up my brother," Dean said suddenly, looking back and forth between them.

"Dean!" Sam squeaked, snapping his gaze away from Gabriel to glare at his brother in mortification.

"What? I know that look, Sammy. That's the look Cas gave me right before we slept together, and it led to a couple of you-know-what's. You're not nearly old enough for that."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm 28, Dean."

Dean gave him a very long look, and then he turned to Gabriel. "I'll figure out a way to kill you for real if you do."

" _Dean!_ " Sam snapped.

Castiel looked like he was trying hard to hide a smile as he stepped forward and rested a hand on Dean's shoulder. "I'm sure that Gabriel knows better than that, Dean. I did not intend to... knock you up when I did. This is not a safe time for eyases." 

"Yeah, so in the future you two might want to practice what you preach," Gabriel said, though it was spoken without any real heat to it. "Besides, Raphael's not going to be a problem anymore."

"Wait, you're not going after him?" Sam said, alarmed. 

"I have to, Sam. The only other archangels are trapped downstairs. It's just me and him." Gabriel shrugged. "Raphael isn't going to just stop, I can tell you that right now. He's too loyal to Michael and the whole Apocalypse agenda. One way or another, he's going to keep trying to make it happen until he's stopped permanently. Maybe if I'd been around when this whole idea got into his head I could've convinced him otherwise, but I know how stubborn he can be."

Sam turned, looking for support. "Cas?"

"I'm afraid Gabriel is right," Castiel said apologetically. "Raphael has bested me on numerous occasions. It's the whole reason why I agreed to an allegiance with Crowley in the first place."

"Yeah, we're gonna talk about that later, little bro," Gabriel said.

"I'm with Sam. You died the last time you tried to face down an archangel," said Dean at the same time. "Not that I care about saving your butt because I'm still not over the whole you killing me a hundred times thing, but for some reason my brother likes having you around."

"Your concern is touching, Winchester," Gabriel muttered, rolling his eyes. "I didn't have all of my grace before. It wasn't an even match. This time, I will. Not to mention the back-up of Cassie and his army."

Watching as Castiel nodded and Dean turned pale, Sam felt like he was going to throw up. He had Gabriel back and now there was an excellent chance he would lose not only him, but Castiel as well. Suddenly he was really wishing that he'd refused to let Loki explore his memories.


	12. Chapter 12

For once everything seemed to be going, if not great, okay in Dean's life. Sam and Bobby were both safe. He had a couple of kids that looked like they were going to be ready to hatch at anytime, despite Castiel's repeated reassurances that it usually took eyases months to hatch. He had beer in the fridge and a pie on the counter, and, while he and Castiel weren't at the point where they were ready to jump back into bed, they'd exchanged a handful of kisses.

And now it was all being torn out from under him. He couldn't even look at Sam or Gabriel, too busy staring at Castiel and willing him to change his mind. He wanted to keep protesting, but it was like he'd forgotten how to talk. There was too much tumbling through his head: Castiel's explanation of how the last fight with Raphael had gone in which he had nearly died, Gabriel's grim determination coupled with how _his_ last fight with an archangel had gone, the devestated look on Sam's face...

"Dean." Castiel gently gripped his shoulder. There was one split second of disorientation that always followed angelic flight, though either Castiel really was getting better at it or Dean was just getting more used to it, because it wasn't nearly as bad as before. They landed outside in the junkyard, not ten feet away from where Bobby was waist deep in the remains of an old Dodge.

Dean cleared his throat, the only sound he seemed to be capable of making, and felt no amusement from watching Bobby bang his head or come up swearing.

"Christ, I've told you to - what's wrong?" Bobby said, switching gears so quickly that Dean would have been surprised under any other circumstances. As it was, he just felt kind of numb.

"The bond between Sam and Gabriel was enough to restore Gabriel's memories, and he has decided to help end the civil war in heaven. The two of us are going to gather the remains of my army to fight Raphael," Castiel explained. Short but sweet, like it would really be that easy.

Bobby swore again, his eyes darting back and for between them. "Can we help?"

"You can keep Dean and Sam safe."

"I've been doing that for twenty years, boy," Bobby said with a snort. "Don't you two worry about them or your eyases. This place is warded to the gills and I can promise you no one will be stepping off this land until the war's over."

"Thank you," Castiel said softly. He turned to look at Dean. Bobby took the hint, making a quick retreat into the house.

Dean couldn't look back into those blue eyes. Instead, he knelt down to gather the eggs into his arms. Usually their warmth felt reassuring and in return his presence caused a soft fluttering beneath the shells, like they were saying hello. This time, as though the eyases could sense his fear, there was nothing. He thought he might throw up. This was his _family_. He'd been so close and now it was all riding on Raphael being the weakest.

"Dean -"

"This is bullshit," Dean said in a low voice. "You left me once, Cas. You left me on Earth for a whole year. You better fucking come back faster this time, you got it?"

Castiel knelt before him and reached out to cup his face, bringing their eyes into contact. He was smiling that special smile he reserved solely for Dean. "It will be okay, Dean. As long as I know that you and the eyases are safe, I can put everything I have into this war."

There was a fine trembling in his muscles that Dean couldn't stop, but he didn't know if it was from fear or frustration. Castiel didn't seem to care, pulling him close and wrapping his arms around Dean and the eggs. He crooned softly to Dean, a deep sound that Dean hadn't heard since the day he was giving birth. It was still as comforting now as it had been then, and against his will he relaxed a little.

"I can't do this alone," he whispered.

"You won't have to. It will be okay." Castiel kissed him gently then, so sweet and chaste that it could've been straight out of the romance novels Sam liked to read when he thought Dean wasn't looking. 

The back door banged shut, and Gabriel said, "We gotta go, little bro. I doubt Raphael missed my triumphant return."

"It will be okay," Castiel repeated, like he thought that was enough to make Dean have faith, and then he got to his feet. He turned towards Gabriel and the two of them nodded at each other. There was the damp sound of flapping wings and then they were gone.

"Dean." Sam came out on the steps, his face ashen. "I'm so, so sorry. I didn't know -"

"Save it, Sammy," Dean interrupted. It wasn't like Sam had done this on purpose, or even meant for it to happen. There was obviously a lot more going on between him and Gabriel than he'd admitted, considering that he could still see the dried tear tracks on Sam's face. Sam was no happier to see his angel go than Dean was.

He cocked his head to the side and Sam climbed down the steps, walking over and reaching down to take the green egg. Dean got to his feet, cradling the other egg in his arms. He was trying his best not to think about what might happen if Castiel and Gabriel didn't win. If they never came back he'd be a single parent. But if they lost, then the world was going to end once Lucifer and Michael got free. It was pretty clear which was the worst case scenario.

"Gabriel's pretty strong, Dean," Sam said, staring down at the green egg. He sounded like he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was Dean. "And he sounds like he has a plan."

"I hope he does," Dean replied. "You know what sucks the worst about this?"

"What?"

"That we're stuck here on Earth and can't do shit." He looked up at the sky. The endless blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds, didn't appear any different from yesterday. But somewhere up there was a war was being fought to decide the fate of humanity. It wasn't fair. "At least last time we had a say in what was going on. We were involved. This time we're just sitting around waiting."

"I know. I feel the same way. But short of killing ourselves to get up there, I don't know what else we could do."

The thought of killing himself didn't sound right with Dean. At one time he would've been all for it. But now, much as he wanted to be up there helping Castiel, he had the eggs to think about. What if he and Sam killed themselves and they won, but Castiel was smited in the process? What would happen to the eggs? It wouldn't be fair to leave them in Bobby's hands. Besides, Dean was determined to raise his kids right. He had to put them first.

He shook his head, moving past Sam to walk up the steps. Sam followed. Bobby was standing in the kitchen, watching the two of them as they entered the house. His arms were folded across his chest and there was a half drunk beer on the counter beside him.

"I realize you're not in the best frame of mind, but I hope I don't have to resort to locking you up in the panic room to keep you from doing something stupid," said Bobby.

"If there was something we could do, maybe you would," Dean snapped.

"It's pretty hard to do anything when this war is taking place on a different plane of existence," Sam added, sounding no happier about the matter. He carried the egg over to the fridge and grabbed a beer for both him and Dean.

For once, though, alcohol wasn't making Dean feel any better. He absolutely hated being useless. He stared out the window, wondering if he was now considered angel enough to be able to get up to heaven. Castiel hadn't really elaborated on the so-called changes that being an angel's mate would cause. Did he have wings now? Could he fly the way they did? Was there even a chance he could learn how in the next few hours?

Probably not. Dean sighed heavily and finished his beer, accepting another from Bobby with a nod. He popped the cap off and took a healthy swallow. Too bad the battle for heaven wasn't being fought on Earth. He and Sam would've been able to do something then. After all the crap they'd been through, both of them would have liked the chance to gank an angel or two.

Or a demon. The beer he was in the middle of swallowing went down wrong and he choked, coughing harshly through the sudden burn in his chest. "Demon," he gasped.

"What?" Sam and Bobby rushed over to him, crowding around the window over the sink. About a hundred feet from the house, lined up just where the end of the warding would've fallen, was Crowley and about half a dozen demons.

"Balls," Bobby muttered. "They waited 'till Castiel and Gabriel were gone."

"They can't get through, though. Not with the warding," Sam pointed out.

"Yeah?" Dean said, tensing as he watched one of the demons step forward. It was a little girl. Or maybe she wasn't a demon at all, because she bent down and started scrubbing her hands through some of the warding marks. "Tell that to them."


	13. Chapter 13

The second he saw the first demon taking a step over the smudged wards, Dean felt his mind go quiet. A strong sense of calm ran through him, quelling the initial burst of adrenaline that had him wanting to reach for his gun. A variety of options flooded through his head: A) he could pray to Castiel and Gabriel and hope that one of them made it down in time to help, or that they could spare an angel to send. B) he, Sam and Bobby could take the demons head on. C) run.

None of them were appealing. Option A meant distracting Castiel and Gabriel right when they needed to be focusing on kicking Raphael's ass, and that was in a best case scenario. Worst case scenario, Castiel would come running leaving Gabriel to face Raphael alone, or they would send angels they couldn't afford to lose and risk turning the tide of the war against themselves. That was out.

Option B meant taking the risk that Crowley didn't have another bunch of demons hiding somewhere out there, just waiting for the chance to jump an unsuspecting human. Crowley didn't exactly have the greatest track record for playing fair, and Dean was positive that the smirking king of hell had some tricks up his sleeve. Furthermore, going out there to fight meant the eggs would be left unprotected. And if Dean stayed behind to watch over them, that Sam and Bobby would be going out there alone.

Which meant that option C, a strategic retreat, was probably the best one, even if it grated on him to even think of running away from Crowley. 

"Sammy, you take the eggs to the Impala," Dean said, barely recognizing the sound of his own voice. It came out a lot quieter than he was used to, yet it held n undeniable note of command. "Bobby, you grab as many weapons as you can and follow. I'll cover you both and then join you. We're leaving."

"Dean, we can take them!" Sam protested. He waved a hand at the slowly approaching demons. "There's only six of them. Three of us. That's two to a demon. We've faced worse odds than that, man."

"Yeah, and leave the back unprotected so that some demon can sneak in here and take or kill my kids?" Dean snapped.

Sam's face went white. "Dean, I -"

"Just _go_ , Sammy."

"Dean's right, boy," Bobby said, though he didn't sound any happier about it than Dean felt. "Christ knows what else Crowley has got out there. Three against six is only good odds so long as Crowley doesn't decide to mix it up with more demons or a hellhound or two." He gripped the back of Sam's shirt and gave him a shove to get him going, then turned a hard stare on Dean. "You should be the ones gathering weapons, not me."

"Bobby, I got this," Dean said.

Bobby just nodded. "Make sure you don't do anything stupid, ya idjit. I'm not raising another set of Winchesters. My hair is grey enough as it is."

Dean shot him a weak smile and took Ruby's knife when Bobby handed it to him. The familiar weight felt good in his hand. He turned towards the kitchen door and stepped out on the porch, letting it slam shut behind him. He had to buy Sam and Bobby some time. Hopefully Crowley would be in the mood for a talk.

"I don't remember extending an invite to you to enter private property," he said.

"What do you think this is, a teen drama?" Crowley countered, lifting a hand to halt the progress of the demons. "Lovely to see you again, Squirrel. And here I was a little concerned because you and Moose took off one day to capture an Alpha and just never came back."

"Yeah, well, Cas told us everything," Dean said coldly. "Kinda cast you in a bad light, and we have a policy against working with assholes."

Crowley shrugged. "I figured Castiel wouldn't be able to keep his mouth shut. Though he was so twisted up in knots about keeping you out of this that I am surprised he told you the truth. He was desperate to be able to give you a nice, normal life away from hunting."

Inwardly, Dean burned at hearing those comments. Why the fuck did everyone keep thinking that he wanted that kind of cookie cutter lifestyle? No one had even bothered to _ask_ him what he really wanted. They all just assumed that, because he'd had a fling with Lisa and wondered once or twice what it would've been like to stay there with her, it was his dream. That would be like assuming Sam wanted to become a chef just because his brother wondered what was in that amazing salad dressing at the last diner they'd stopped at.

He didn't have the same dream as Sam. He never had.

"Turns out that what other people think isn't always right," Dean said as evenly as possible, not wanting to show that Crowley's words had pissed him off even more. 

"And Castiel just... spontaneously realized that, did he?" Crowley asked, raising an eyebrow. "Or... did he come back because of those darling eggs of yours? Really, Dean, I would have thought better of you. Knocked up by an angel?"

The hair on the back of Dean's neck rose and he straightened up. He didn't know how Crowley had found out about the eggs and frankly he didn't care. "They are not a part of this, you son of a bitch."

"I beg to differ. I'm sure that both you and Castiel would do whatever it took to get those eggs back safely, yes? Even opening the door to Purgatory." Crowley was smiling broadly now, like this was a perfectly normal conversation to be having. "And give me all of the souls, of course, since I think the half he would have originally ended up with is worth the life of his children."

There were a lot of times in his life where Dean Winchester had been driven over the edge. Normally he was aware of when that was going to happen, not that he did much to stop it. Whatever pushed him to that point deserved what they got. But still, he had always been able to sense that exact moment when he just stopped caring and went after whatever was threatening him or his brother with everything that he possessed.

This time Dean didn't even know that he had snapped until something warm splattered his face. He blinked, realizing that he was some twenty feet from the porch and that Ruby's knife was now embedded in the throat of a demon. Lightning crackled around the demon's eyes and it stopped convulsing in seconds. He pulled the knife out and stepped back and the body dropped, still with a look of shock on its face.

There was an angry scream from somewhere behind him and he pivoted, meeting the second demon's lunge with the knife to its stomach. It was like he was moving on auto-pilot, except twice as fast as he normally did, yanking the knife out and throwing himself at two more demons with a savage growl. He stabbed the third one in the heart and then, while it was sparking out, grabbed the throat of the other and tore it out with his bare hand. A quick stab to that demon's shoulder finished the job.

The fifth and sixth demons, both occupying male vessels, weren't quite as stupid. They hung back, watching him, waiting for the chance to strike. The fifth demon finally charged. Dean dodged the punch to his stomach, dropping to the ground in a smooth movement he hadn't realized he was capable of, and stabbed it in the groin. His neck prickled and he wrenched the knife free and stabbed back, catching the sixth demon right between the eyes.

It was over in a matter of minutes. It was one of the easiest fights he'd ever had with not just one demon, but six, because it was as though they were moving in slow motion and he could anticipate every move they were going to make before it happened. His blood pounded in his ears as he straightened up, that cold sense of fury that had settled over him in the kitchen strengthening when he turned his glare on Crowley.

Who was applauding. "Very impressive indeed, Squirrel. I didn't realize you and Castiel were that close, though in retrospect he spent enough time mooning over you that it doesn't surprise me. He could've done better, but you managed to marry up."

Dean snarled and went for him, but Crowley had that one ace up his sleeve: he reached down and grabbed the sobbing child, holding her up between them. The little girl cried louder as a knife was pressed to her throat, forcing Dean to stop short. Crowley's smirk grew wider.

"I'd hate to have to kill her," he said tauntingly. "Back away, Dean."

Every instinct in Dean's body demanded that he kill this threat to his eggs. Backing up was almost physically painful. But the absolute terror in that little girl's eyes was too much to ignore. She couldn't have been older than seven or eight, and this was not how she deserved to die.

"Don't do anything stupid, Crowley," he growled.

"I might have said the same to you. Until next time."

"Wait!" Dean shouted, lunging forward and throwing the knife, but it was too late. Crowley disappeared, taking the little girl with him. The knife sailed several feet and then fell to the ground. 

An unnatural silence settled over Bobby's yard. Dean just stood there for a long minute, panting quietly. He didn't want to think about what Crowley would do that to that kid. Probably have someone possess her; after all, Lilith had already proven that little kids made excellent vessels because no one would ever suspect them. He stormed forward and picked up the knife, realizing that both it and he were absolutely covered in blood.

He twisted on the spot to survey the bloody bodies of the demons. It had all happened so fast, he barely had any memory of how he'd killed them. But the proof was here before him: six demons that hadn't even been able to touch him, something that he knew for a fact he never would have been able to do a year ago. Hell, most fights with demons ended in at least a couple of bruises if not broken bones. 

Not for the first time, he remembered what Castiel had said once. _A nesting mother could tear an angel apart easily._ Apparently he hadn't been joking. Was this all he was capable of now, or was there more? Just how human was he now?

"Dean?"

He looked up, spotting Sam on the porch. Sam held an egg in each arm, and he looked shocked.

"It's not safe here anymore. Crowley will be back. We're leaving," Dean said, not meeting his brother's eyes. "Let's go."


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now on the babies will be referred to as "eyas" (plural: eyases) as opposed to chicks or hatchlings, thank you Saj_te_Gyuhyall for the suggestion. Eyas is the term for a baby hawk or falcon, and per their recommendation, is more suited to the children of an angelic warrior.

With Bobby in the backseat giving directions, Sam drove. Dean didn't pay any attention to where they were going. Normally he would have complained more that he wasn't the one driving, but right then all he felt capable of doing was clutching the eggs to his chest like someone might show up and try to steal them away while he stared blankly out the window at the passing scenery that was whipping by the windows.

Sam floored it for a couple of hours, until Bobby ordered him to turn off the interstate and drive on a dirt road for about twenty minutes straight. They passed through a town that was so small it was basically a single road of houses and one general store, then turned left off the dirt road onto a path that was definitely not meant for a car. Dean gritted his teeth against the urge to ask what the hell Bobby had been thinking for the damage that was undoubtedly being done to his baby's undercarriage.

They continued on this path for over half an hour, Sam doing his best to navigate through the woods as it started to get dark. Finally, Bobby hit the back of the seat and told him he could stop. Without the familiar, comforting sound of the Impala's engine, it was very quiet. All Dean could hear was the sound of his own breath, which was way too loud and harsh in his ears. He tightened his grip on the eggs, glad that at least it wasn't completely dark so that they could see if someone tried to get the jump on them.

Bobby leaned back and opened his door, clearly his throat roughly. "This is one of Rufus's safe houses. No one's been out here for years, so I'll take a quick look around to make sure that it's still safe. You two idjits _stay here_."

At one point Dean would've ignored that order and jumped out of the car to keep Bobby from going in alone. Now, he just turned his head to watch as Bobby made his way towards a cabin. Just visible in the gloom, it didn't look as decrepit as Dean might have expected considering it had been empty for ages. It definitely needed some work, but it didn't fall apart when Bobby walked through the front door, so that was a plus.

Beside him, Sam fidgeted. It was obvious his brother was dying to say something, but couldn't figure out exactly how he was supposed to say it. Dean rolled his eyes and sighed, his temper getting the better of him. "Just spit it out already, Sammy."

"What the hell happened back there?" Sam demanded. "Jesus, Dean, I thought you were just going to act as a distraction. You were the one who said it wasn't safe to go after Crowley. Why did you do it alone?"

And there it was. "I didn't do it on purpose."

"Really," Sam said skeptically, clearly not believing him for a minute. "So what, you just -"

"I didn't have any control over it," Dean snapped, not interested in hearing whatever smart remark Sam was going to come up with. It would just piss him off even more. "He threatened the eggs and I lost it, okay? Is that enough of an explanation for you, or do you want me to continue? Want to hear about how Crowley's big plan was to take the eyases away and then make Cas open Purgatory in exchange for giving them back? Except he's a demon, so chances are he'd probably just kill them after -"

"Okay, Dean, okay. I get it," Sam said, holding his hands up to stem the flow. "I'm sorry. I just... you scared me, man. I came out on the porch and it was like you were possessed. I've never seen you gank demons like that before."

Dean shrugged one shoulder, careful not to look at his brother. He didn't want Sam to know that it had kind of scared him, too. "I told you, I just lost it and it was like I was moving on autopilot. All I could think about was protecting the eggs from Crowley. I would've ganked his ass too if the son of a bitch hadn't hidden behind that little kid."

Sam's expression darkened. "Yeah, I saw that. Crowley's a real piece of work." He fell silent for a few seconds, looking down at the eggs. "Do you... feel in control now?"

"I'm fine. Just tired," Dean said, which was the honest truth. He felt like he'd gone a few hundred rounds with demons, not just killed six in the course of about two minutes. The only thing keeping him awake was the knowledge that, while the Impala was warded against demons, they weren't really safe yet. It would've been way too easy for Crowley to have followed them.

"So you're not, like, thinking about ganking me or Bobby."

"Sam, what the fuck?" Dean glared at him.

"I'm just asking, okay? It was like you were a different person, Dean. If I had approached you, I'm not sure you would've recognized me."

"That's stupid," Dean muttered, scowling. There was no way to put it into words for Sam to understand. But the fury coursing through him had been directed solely at the creatures that posed a threat to _his family_. Sam was family, Bobby was family, the eggs were family. Dean could have no more attacked any of them than he could have given Crowley a big hug and kiss.

He screwed his face up at the image that thought presented and shook his head. "Seriously, Sammy, don't worry about it. I'm not going to go all psycho on you and Bobby."

"I believe you," Sam said quietly, and surprisingly he seemed like he meant it. "Do you think it's because of you and Cas?"

"Probably." Dean tossed him a half-hearted smile and reached for the door. As he pushed it open and swung himself and the eggs out, he added, "So don't go getting yourself knocked up anytime soon, bitch."

"Jerk!" Sam shouted back, scrambling to get out of the car.

Bobby met them at the door, not looking surprised to see that they hadn't waited for him to give the all-clear. "Place is empty. It needs some more wards, and there's not much in the way of food, but it'll do."

"I can make a run back to that store," Sam offered.

"I'll go. You two will stand out too much," said Bobby, grabbing the keys from Sam. "There's a can of paint in the second bedroom, Sam. Start putting up as many wards against angels and demons as you can remember. I'll pick up some supplies so that we can add more wards outside tomorrow morning."

"How are we going to do that? You saw what happened last time," said Dean. "That kid had no problem destroying the wards."

"Let me worry about that, idjit. You take care of your kids," Bobby retorted, stomping outside. Less than a minute later, the headlights of the Impala were disappearing into the brush.

Sam headed into the bedroom and came back with the paint. He cracked it open and swirled it around, raising an eyebrow at the shade of pink. "Do I even want to know why Rufus had paint this color?"

"Probably not," Dean said, cradling the eggs as he walked into a different bedroom. He looked around, relieved that Sam wasn't in the room with him because he couldn't keep the pained grimace from his face. His nest was gone. The nest he'd so carefully prepared, with the comfortable mattress on the floor that smelled of him and Sam and the blankets pinned above. The one that had clothing from Sam, Bobby, Castiel, Gabriel and even Balthazar arranged just so. It was _gone_. 

He'd gone into labor in that nest, spent nights there with Castiel, felt safe there. He'd thought about what it would be like when the eggs hatched, and how the first scents to reach their little noses would be that of their parents and their family.

This room was a stark, cold place in comparison. The air was musty and stale. He carefully set the eggs down on the bed and chipped away at the paint on the window until he could open it a bit, letting in a breeze. Then he investigated the closet. There were some blankets piled on a shelf that, although dusty, had no suspicious or questionable stains. Dean shook them out and then piled them on the bed around his eggs.

It was a shitty substitute. Even before he'd realized what he was building, he hadn't wanted to leave the nest. Spending time outside of it had become more tolerable once the eggs were born, but only because he knew that come nightfall, he and the eggs would be back inside with the door closed. He didn't want to be here in an unfamiliar place with only his brother for company, waiting for demons to find them.

His throat hurt. He swallowed hard, blinking rapidly and blaming the tears rising to his eyes on the dust he'd shaken out of the blankets. He laid down on the bed, curling protectively around the eggs with his gun in easy reach, and just tried to remember how to breathe through the shaky sobs. It took everything he had to keep from praying to Castiel, and in the meantime he just hoped that Sam couldn't hear him.

Eventually, after a long time, he managed to fall asleep. But it was a restless sleep, broken frequently by a sound from outside - the wind against the glass, a rustling in the bushes, tree branches scraping the roof - that had him bolting awake and reaching for his gun. After the fifth time that happened, Dean sighed and gave up. Even though he was exhausted, there was no way he was going to be able to sleep until the cabin was fully warded. And maybe not even then.

He slowly sat up and rubbed his face, hoping to remove any and all traces of his earlier bout of crying. His brother would never let him hear the end of it, and the last thing Dean felt like sitting through was a long talk about sharing feelings. He felt dizzy as he dropped his hands, like even that little bit of movement had sapped whatever strength the little bit of sleep he'd gotten might have given him. If Crowley showed up, he wasn't going to be much help in the fight.

As that thought went through his head Dean turned, intending to go find Sam and see how the warding was coming along, and froze. The white lines on the blue egg had deepened into black. No, it wasn't a line - it was a _crack_. And even as Dean watched, the crack traveled a little bit further, running down the side of the egg and disappearing into the curve of the bottom. His mouth dropped open in shock as a very soft cracking sound reached his ears. It wasn't the blue egg, though, but the green one. A little piece of shell broke off right before Dean's eyes.

" _Sam!_ " he bellowed. "SAM!"

There was a crash and then a paint-covered Sam scrambled into the room, his gun at the ready. "What? What?" he shouted, looking around wildly.

Dean could barely force the words out through the sickening combination of fear and awe. "They're... they're _hatching_."


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is technically the last chapter. I would have given you more warning, but I only realized as I was finishing it this morning.
> 
> There will be an epilogue and possibly one or two time stamps, if anyone has an interest in seeing the eyases a little older.

Sam summed the situation up with a short, succinct, "Oh shit."

"You think?" Dean said, possibly a little hysterically, though he thought that kind of reaction could be forgiven considering the circumstances. This wasn't supposed to be happening yet. Castiel had _promised_ that it would be weeks, if not months, before the eggs started to hatch. They were supposed to have enough time to deal with all this shit first. And yet here the eggs were, against all odds, hatching out in the middle of nowhere, while the King of Hell was trying to kill them, and without an angel in sight, with only two clueless humans to supervise. 

He dropped his head to his chest, breathing through the sudden urge to laugh or cry. Definitely Winchesters.

"Dean, stay with me, dude," Sam said, sounding a lot more worried as he took a couple steps closer to the bed. "I know this is freaking you out, but you can't lose it right now. Your kids need you."

"I'm fine," Dean said, and although Sam shot him a deeply skeptical look, at least his brother didn't say anything to the contrary. "I just... Jesus, Sam, I don't know anything about eggs or what to do when they start hatching. Am I supposed to help?" He looked down at the shells. Both of them had cracked a little more, but that was as far as the eyases had gotten.

"I don't think so. From what I remember, baby birds are supposed to do the work on their own. It makes them stronger or something. Eyases might be the same way," Sam said slowly, though he didn't seem too convinced. Bottom line was, neither one of them had any clue what they were doing. For all they knew, not helping the eyases to come out of the eggs meant leaving them to drown on their own fluid. 

The two brothers shared a long look, and then Sam spoke again.

"You need to pray to Cas."

Dean sighed, hating to disturb his mate when Castiel was doing something so incredibly important. It wasn't like he was searching for God or fighting demons; this was a civil war that meant the fate of heaven. All of Castiel's attention should be focused on winning against Raphael. The last thing he needed was to worry about the eggs hatching while he wasn't there. But if Dean didn't pray, and something went wrong while the eggs were hatching, he would never forgive himself. Worse, he knew that Castiel would never forgive him. Besides that, it didn't seem right for this to happen while Castiel wasn't there.

"Okay," he muttered. "You should call Bobby. We don't have anything here for babies. We need... shit, we need _everything_." Just the thought of what they would need was enough to make him feel overwhelmed, especially because it reminded him of just how much they didn't know. Did eyases need to eat? Was formula enough for them? Or would they need to be started on baby food right away? Would they need medical attention? Angelic intervention? Did they need to be kept warm, or was a cooler temperature preferable? What about diapers, baby blankets, clothing, pacifiers, and all that other shit that human babies needed?

"It's okay," Sam said instantly, tucking his gun into his waistband and pulling out his phone. "It will be fine. I'll call Bobby and tell him to pick up some stuff. That town must have supplies for babies, and anything he can't get, we'll... figure something out." He walked out of the room, leaving the door open.

Alone in the room with only the soft sound of cracking to keep him company, Dean sat back down on the edge of the bed. His knees felt too weak to hold him up any longer. He kept looking at the eggs as he whispered, "Cas, if you're listening... Man, I know that you guys are up there fighting the good fight. And I appreciate that, 'cause no one knows better than me what this fight means for you. But I really need you here right now. The eggs are hatching and we don't know what the hell we're doing. So if you can spare a minute or two... Now would be a really good time for a visit."

He waited in silence, hoping that there would be the familiar rush of angel wings, but there was nothing. It was hard not to let the fear take over completely. If he and Sam were alone on this, they would just have to do the best that they could - just like they always did. He pushed back the nagging question about whether or not Castiel was even still alive to hear his prayer and sat back, resting his back against the headboard and pulling his knees to his chest. Even if Castiel didn't show up ( _couldn't_ show up?), Dean would be damned if he'd let either of his children hatch into the world alone. 

Sam poked his head in a couple of minutes later. "I talked to Bobby. He was still in town. He's gonna pick up some stuff and come back as soon as he can. He said he thinks it's best to make sure to keep the eggs warm based on how warm Cas kept the nest. Body heat is best."

There wasn't really much more that Dean could do for heat, but he ended up dragging the eggs close between his spread legs. Sam then helped him to wrap the blankets around his legs, creating a little cocoon. Dean couldn't help thinking that it was nothing like the nest would have been. Bobby had plenty of space heaters around the house; it would've been easy to drag those heaters up to the nest and crank up the heat until the room was sweltering if Castiel wasn't there. Instead, his upper body was cold enough that he was occasionally shivering while his lower body was lukewarm at best. After a few minutes, Sam joined them on the bed, sprawling out across the bottom and kind of curving his body so that he was wrapped around the eggs and Dean as best he could.

Neither of them spoke for a couple of minutes. Dean was thinking about how awesome it would've been if this had happened under any other circumstances. He rubbed his thumb lightly over the shell of the blue egg, feeling a familiar little tingle. He'd never noticed before, but the color of the shell was the exact same color as Castiel's eyes. For the first time, he wondered what the eyases would look like. Would they be human? Would there be anything angelic about them? Would one or both of them have green eyes? Blue eyes? Blond hair? Dark hair? Castiel had never even told him whether they were having a boy and a girl, two boys, or two girls. 

Suddenly Sam asked, "Have you thought about names yet?"

Dean blinked, a little surprised by the question, and turned his gaze to his brother. "A little," he admitted. Okay, maybe a lot. Despite not knowing what gender the babies would be, he'd come up with a couple of names that he liked. But he hadn't run them by Castiel yet. Frankly, he was worried that Castiel might've come up with some weird angel names. 

"That means you've got them picked out," Sam said, moving his foot to give Dean a gentle nudge to the knee. "Feel like sharing?"

"Nope. Sorry, Sammy. Not until Cas and I get the chance to talk about it."

"That's fair, but... what if Cas doesn't come back for a while?"

Or at all. "I'll cross that bridge if it happens," Dean replied. "Besides, I don't even know if the names I'm thinking about will work. Mom and Dad had a couple of different names picked out for you, but they waited until you were born to choose. Mom said you looked more like a "Sam" than a "Henry", so that's what they went with. Maybe I'll be way off and I'll have to start from scratch."

Sam pouted. "I guess that makes sense," he said grudgingly. He was quiet for a moment, his eyes on the two eggs. "You know, sometimes I used to think about what I would've named mine and Jess's kid."

Hiding his automatic reaction, which was surprise that Sam and Jess had been _that_ serious, Dean said, "You did?"

"Yeah. I always figured if we had a daughter, we'd called her "Anne". That was the name of Jess's mom."

"It's pretty," Dean said, realizing that Sam was probably trying to figure out if he would name a daughter 'Mary'. And while he had thought about it, he wanted to give his kids first names that didn't have any baggage. God knew that fate would be stacked against them as it was, considering that they would be the children of a Winchester and heaven's most rebellious angel. They didn't need even more to live up to.

Apparently catching on to the fact that Dean wasn't going to share any names, Sam sighed and fell quiet. The two of them just laid there in silence for a long time, watching the progress of the eggs. The lines continued to spread and deepen, the occasional bit of shell cracking off, but aside from a handful of tiny holes here and there, that was it. Despite Dean's best effort, he couldn't make out any sign of the eyases inside. And while it was tempting to just break the shell himself, he was worried it might do damage to them. If these eyases were anything like every other newborn species on Earth, they were incredibly fragile right now.

At least five or six hours had gone by before they heard the sound of the Impala's engine out front. Sam rolled off the bed, stretched, and went out to greet Bobby and help him carry the things inside. Dean didn't move. It was a little cooler in the room without Sam's presence, and he made an attempt at fixing the blankets so that the eggs would be better covered. He had his head lowered while he fussed, listening to the distant sound of Sam and Bobby talking to each other, so he didn't register the sound of wings right away.

But it would've been impossible to ignore the hand that touched his shoulder, right over the handprint. Dean's head snapped up and he found himself looking up at his angel. Castiel wore a faint smile, even though his vessel was visibly bruised and bleeding. Blood soaked the front of Jimmy's suit, lined with traces of white grace, and he was noticeably tilting to one side. Dean straightened, his mouth opening to let out a deluge of questions, right up until Castiel silenced him by pressing a gentle finger to his lips.

Outside in the yard, Sam yelped in joy and then Gabriel laughed.

"You won?" Dean breathed, the question barely audible.

Castiel's smile widened. "It is amazing how much strength you can summon when you hear a prayer from your mate," he said fondly, his eyes sliding over Dean's face with a stare so intimate it felt like a caress. "I heard you, Dean."

"Cas, I -" Dean began, wanting to apologize. Suddenly all of the shit that had happened between them, all of it, didn't matter at all. He was just so damned grateful that Castiel was back.

"Shh," Castiel whispered, grimacing as he took a seat beside Dean on the bed. There was a soft fluttering sound, and then Dean felt a gentle pressure around his shoulders and legs. The temperature began to increase immediately. When he looked at the end of the bed, he couldn't see anything - but if he didn't quite look at it, if he looked to the right and let his eyes go out of focus, he could make out the impression of feathers. The cracking from the eggs grew in volume immediately, and Dean sighed. He leaned against Castiel and together, they watched their babies hatch.


	16. Chapter 16

Later, Sam said that it took nearly 24 hours total for the eggs to hatch. But in the moment, it didn't seem like that much time passed. Dean was completely enraptured by watching the slow progress of the eyases. The first time he caught a glimpse of a tiny hand pushing against the inner shell, his heart stopped and he let out a choked sound. Castiel chuckled quietly and reached forward, placing his hand on the top of the egg. It was the blue one, which had been progressing a little quicker than the green one. A soft white light pulsed out of his palm and the remainder of the egg shattered, leaving an infant laying there in the midst of shells and fluid.

It was a girl, and she so tiny, though not as tiny as he'd expected. She was larger than Sam had been when he was brought home from the hospital, at any rate. She also had wings, though they were damp and featherless. For the longest time, she didn't move, and Dean didn't even feel capable of breathing. Castiel seemed to be equally frozen, both of them waiting for something to happen. And she remained quiet, not a sound, until Dean's aching lungs forced him to exhale, and then her eyes - as blue as Castiel's - blinked open and she started to cry.

For the second time in his life, Dean fell head over heels in love instantly. He'd already been protective over the eggs, but seeing this little eyas on the bed made him want to hold her close and just protect her from anything that might try to harm her. 

"Oh my god," he said, unable to think of anything else to say. "Cas, she's... oh my god."

"I know," Castiel said quietly, reaching out to pick the eyas up with incredibly gentle hands. He banished the fluid covering her, leaving her dry, and grabbed one of the white baby blankets that Gabriel had brought to them. Carefully, mindful of her little wings, he swaddled her in the blanket, then set her into Dean's arms and showed him how to hold her without putting too much pressure on her back or wings.

Dean stared down at her, his throat clogged with emotion. Her tears had stopped when Castiel picked her up, and now she stared up at Dean. Every inch of her was beautiful, from her eyelashes to her nose to the tiny fist she was waving in the air. He could hardly believe that he'd actually carried her inside of him for over a year, and yet at the same time he felt an instant connection to her. It was one thing to hold her as an egg, but holding her now that she was warm and breathing and _alive_ was overwhelming and his eyes blurred with tears.

"She's amazing," he whispered, the only words that he was capable of speaking.

Castiel settled back beside him, his wings still cocooning the four of them, and brushed the back of his hand against Dean's cheek. When Dean glanced up at him, Castiel kissed him lightly. "You're amazing," he murmured against Dean's lips. "Thank you so much for this gift, Dean."

"I didn't do anything, Cas," Dean said, a little uncomfortable with the reverent expression on Castiel's face. 

"You did more than you realize," Castiel replied, wrapping an arm around Dean's shoulders and leaning in to kiss him again on the forehead. He rested his head on Dean's and looked down at the green egg, which was now rocking a bit from side to side. "It won't be long now."

Dean nodded and took a shuddering breath, trying to get himself under control. It took another half an hour before the eyas inside the green egg managed to push a hand through the shell. Castiel repeated his previous action, using grace to free the eyas from the shell. It was another girl, and she began to bawl immediately. Even when Castiel had her swaddled inside of another white blanket and was cradling her in his arms, she still cried. The sound was heartbreaking, and Dean leaned to nuzzle his nose against her cheek.

"Come on, baby girl, don't cry. I know you were comfy where you were, but Daddy and I really wanted to meet you. It's okay."

She continued to cry, though, until Castiel crooned softly and hefted her higher in his arms. She grew quieter at the comforting sound, though her wet green eyes continued to watch them both accusingly. Dean smiled down at her, feeling the same intense surge of emotion that left him speechless. He never would have guessed that he was capable of loving someone, much less two someones, as much as he loved Sam, but apparently he was. He had to breathe through the urge to start crying again and decided he needed a distraction.

He straightened up, rubbing his thumb against the soft, light brown hair of the little eyas in his arms. "You thought about names, Cas?"

"No."

"How do angels get named?" Dean asked, curious, realizing that it had never occurred to him to ask before.

"We are born knowing our names," said Castiel. He hesitated before adding, "I take it humans are not."

"Not so much," Dean said with a chuckle, relieved when the green-eyed eyas let out a huge yawn and blinked heavily lidded eyes. If she was sleeping, she couldn't cry. "That's usually the job of the parents."

"I would be honored if you named our children, Dean."

"You might not like my choices," Dean mumbled, suddenly embarrassed. He'd thought about it a lot, and fortunately the names he had chosen were pretty gender neutral and could be used for either a girl or a boy. And it was a relied to know that Castiel didn't have angelic names in mind - their kids would have as little to do with heaven as possible, if Dean had a say in it. But his choices seemed kind of silly now that he was faced with actually saying them out loud.

"I'm sure you put a lot of thought into this, right?" Castiel asked, raising an eyebrow knowingly when Dean blushed. "You're their mother, and I know that you would not have made a decision like this lightly. You know them best."

"Jude," Dean said after a long pause, glancing at the green-eyed eyas. "Jude Sammy Winchester." 

"Jude," Castiel repeated, cocking his head to the side, his lips forming the name again silently. He looked like he was thinking, and in the silence Dean found himself rushing to fill it.

"I... It's from this lullaby my mom used to sing to me when I was a kid. It's called _Hey Jude_. I used to sing it to Sammy, too. And, well..." He squirmed. It was sentimental in a way that left him open to way too much criticism. He couldn't quite look at his mate. "We don't have to use it. Or the middle name. Feel free to change either one."

"What's the other name?" Castiel asked, no judgment audible in his voice. He sounded curious. Dean risked a peek, seeing the same emotion reflected in his face, and that gave him the courage to keep talking.

"Page. Page Mary Winchester, actually, is what I was thinking. Jimmy Page is one of my favorite singers. I didn't want to use Jimmy for obvious reasons, but I like his last name too."

"Page and Jude." Finally, Castiel smiled. "I think you have chosen well."

"Really?"

"Yes. I like both names, and so do the eyases."

"You... you can tell that?"

"I can feel the sparks of their grace," Castiel told him, reaching out towards Page. She reached up and grabbed his thumb, pulling his hand down with surprising strength, and he chuckled. It was the kind of sound Dean had never heard from him before: wondering and besotted, and it occurred to Dean for the first time that this was what an angel looked and sounded like when they fell in deep, irreversible love.

"I love you."

The words were out before Dean even realized that he was thinking it. Had he not been holding Page, he would've scrambled off the bed and fled. As it was, only the fact that she was still clinging to Castiel's hand that made him stay in one place. His face turned bright red as he registered Castiel's surprise, and he turned his head away quickly, mortified. Should he apologize? Blame it all on the high emotion running through the room? The adrenaline?

"Dean."

Castiel slipped his hand out of Page's grasp and touched his chin, gently turning his head back around until their eyes met. 

"I love you, too."

"Ewww, they're getting all _sappy_!"

Dean flinched at the sound of Gabriel's voice, glaring at the door, and Castiel tensed. Gabriel smirked back at him, lounging against the doorframe like he had no idea why he might not be welcome. Castiel sighed and slowly relaxed, rolling his eyes, though his wings tightened protectively around Dean and the eyases.

"Can't you take a hint?" Dean snapped, swallowing hard. Castiel _loved_ him. Trying to wrap his head around that made him break out into a sweat, and it was just too much for one day. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that Gabriel had chosen just this moment to interrupt, though he certainly wasn't going to tell him that. 

"Sorry, Dean-o, but your brother and adopted father are driving me insane with all of their pacing and worry," Gabriel replied, crossing his arms. "Sam is halfway convinced that something went horribly wrong and you're both in here grieving. And no amount of me telling him that you're both fine is enough to convince him otherwise; he's not gonna stop until he sees you with his own eyes."

"Do you mind?" Dean said in an undertone, glancing at Castiel. He wasn't exactly happy with it himself. Part of him wanted to hide the eyases away for the next hundred years. But it wasn't right or fair to leave Sam and Bobby to worry.

"It's fine," Castiel said with another, fainter smile, shifting to let his wings part as Gabriel threw the door open.

Sam wasted no time; he was through the door before Gabriel had it all the way open. He skidded to a stop, his eyes growing huge, when he saw the family on the bed. Bobby was right behind him, but he stopped too. Gabriel finally had to nudge both men pointedly to get them to move a little closer. 

"Say hello to your nieces, Sammy," Dean said, letting a silly grin take over his face.

"God, Dean." Sam's voice was hushed and awed. 

"You did good, idjit," Bobby added, his eyes on the eyases. If there was a hint of moisture there, Dean pretended not to notice.

Though Castiel stiffened again and watched protectively, they allowed Sam and Bobby to hold the eyases. Sam cradled Jude in his huge arms, body twisted so that Gabriel could see her too. Seeing the two of them bent over an eyas, Dean could see it: the inevitable mating followed by one of them getting pregnant. It was just a matter of time. But the realization didn't upset him the way it would have once. Gabriel seemed like he genuinely cared for Sam, and Sam was head over heels for the archangel whether he realized it or not.

"Did you name them?" Sam asked finally.

"Yup. That's Page Mary Winchester," Dean said with a nod to the blue-eyed eyas in Bobby's arms. "And the one you have is Jude Sammy Winchester."

"What?" Sam's head snapped up. "You... what?"

"It's a good name," Dean said in his most matter-of-fact voice. "After all, it was attached to a giant girl the first time around."

His hope at levity was derailed by the tears in Sam's eyes. "Dude, that's..."

"A beautiful name," Bobby cut in, likely sensing that there was now officially too much emotion in the room for Dean - or any of them, really - to be comfortable. He gently placed Page into Castiel's arms. "For two beautiful little girls. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Castiel said softly, looking down at Page adoringly.

It was only sheer strength of will (and the determination to not let Sam and Bobby see how affected he was) that stopped Dean from crying again. He blinked hard, leaning against Castiel as Sam and Gabriel fussed over Jude and Bobby watched, and felt Castiel's free hand slip down to find his and squeeze gently. The comforting weight of wings settled over his shoulders, a promise of safety and the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I thought for a long time about a) what the gender of the children should be and b) what their names would be. My instinct was to go with two little girls from the start, and I'm glad I did. As for the names, I just wanted something different than what you usually see in fandom.
> 
> There will be at least one timestamp for this story - if there's something specific you'd like to see, now is your chance to let me know.


	17. Chapter 17

It was a week before they were able to leave the safe house. That was how long it took for Gabriel to track Crowley down and introduce him to the business end of an archangel's angel blade. 

It turned out that while Crowley was committed to opening Purgatory while heaven was busy having a civil war, it wasn't that hard to convince him to change his mind when all of heaven was united. Hell still wasn't fully functioning after Lucifer's short lived reign, and there was no way that they would've come out the winner if heaven had chosen to go to war - and that's exactly what would happen if Crowley persisted in trying to find the door to Purgatory. So at least for now, Purgatory would remain in peace.

The news was easily amongst the best that Dean had gotten in years. Raphael had been cowed into submission - and, according to Castiel, that wouldn't be changing anytime soon. Which meant that for once, everything had turned out alright. Crowley and hell would always be an on-going issue, of course, but hunters had been dealing with demons for as long as Dean could remember. So long as they didn't have to try and take down demons that were super powered by Purgatory souls, he was happy. 

He was even happier on the morning that Castiel took him and Bobby by the shoulders and flew them back to Bobby's house. Gabriel followed with Sam and the Impala. Bobby's house didn't look any worse for the wear, which meant that at least no demons had come snooping around to wreck the place while they were in hiding. Bobby immediately stormed into the house muttering something about checking out the status of the panic room. Dean, carrying Jude and Page in each arm, followed him. But where Bobby went down, Dean went up. His heart was pounding unnaturally fast as he neared the top of the steps and walked down the familiar hallway.

His nest looked exactly the way he remembered it. Everything was still in its place, like he'd been gone for five minutes instead of over a week. Dean stepped through the door and sank to his knees, gently setting his little eyases down right in the middle of the bundle of clothes. Page was sleeping and didn't stir when he put her down, but Jude was awake. Her head rolled around slowly, alert eyes examining every inch of the nest. After a moment, she zeroed in on the sleeve of Sam's Stanford University sweatshirt and grabbed for it. She stuck the cotton sleeve in her mouth and started to gum on it.

Which meant that Dean gave a watery chuckle as he hastily swiped at his eyes, relieved for the distraction. "I don't think your Uncle Sammy is going to like you doing that," he told Jude fondly. It was the truth, but he also knew that Sam was already completely charmed by his nieces. If Jude wanted to drool and spit all over the sweatshirt, Sam wasn't going to say a word. 

Jude giggled at him in reply, gumming even harder on the material, and Dean grinned at her. Of the two, she was by far the more mischievous and it showed. Her current favorite thing to do was grab onto hair and refuse to let go, as an unfortunate Sam had found out after he'd been forced to spend a solid fifteen minutes coaxing Jude into letting him go while Gabriel and Dean laughed themselves sick. By contrast, Page was quieter and more serious. She watched the world with wide, intense blue eyes, and Dean had the feeling that she didn't miss much. 

His girls were going to be a force to be reckoned with.

"You're gonna be a heartbreaker," he cooed, tracing a gentle finger over Jude's right wing. It was pale green, a few shades lighter than her eyes, and very soft and sensitive. Castiel could keep the wings hidden when they needed to go out in public until the eyases were old enough to do it on their own, but when they were alone Dean liked to see them. Page's wings, a pale blue, were just as beautiful and delicate as her sister's.

"I thought you would be in here."

The amused sound of his mate's voice made Dean turn, and he saw that Castiel was standing in the doorway watching them with an affectionate smile. Dean smiled back. "I wanted them to see the nest."

"I know." Castiel knelt down beside him, his shoulder bumping against Dean's. "I have a question for you."

"What?" Dean asked absently, watching as Page finally started to wake up.

"What are you and Sam going to do now?"

The question gave Dean pause, even though it wasn't the first time he'd thought about it. Ever since he'd given birth to the eggs, it had been in the back of his head. Truth was, he didn't know how to answer it. He still enjoyed hunting. It was in his blood. It was the only life he'd ever really been comfortable with. He had a hard time picturing himself doing anything else. The year he had spent with Lisa and Ben seemed like something out of a dream, but not necessarily a _good_ dream. Limiting himself to the normal, living like the supernatural didn't exist and wasn't shadowing the edges of his life constantly, wasn't an option.

But he couldn't keep hunting. There was no way he wanted his children to grow up the way that he and Sam had. He wanted his babies to have a stable home, with parents who were around more often than not, and never have them worry about where their next meal might come from because money was running out and Dad wasn't back yet. He wanted the eyases to be able to protect themselves, because after all they were Winchesters, but he also wanted them to be happy and healthy and never have to worry about anything.

All of those thoughts tumbled through his head, no less confusing now than the last time he'd made himself think about them. Dean sighed, touching the fine hair on top of Page's head, and admitted, "I don't know, Cas. I haven't talked to Sam. But I don't think I can hunt anymore. Page and Jude have to come first, and they deserve to have a home. I want them to know about the supernatural, but I don't want them growing up to be hunters. But... I can't go back to the way I was living before. I'm not a regular person and I hate pretending that I am. I don't know how Sammy did it."

"No one is asking you to go back to that, Dean," Castiel said gently, sliding his hand over Dean's. He skillfully intertwined their fingers and squeezed. "For one thing, you are mated to an angel and have two eyases. I don't think you could forget the supernatural if you tried."

Dean choked out a laugh at that. "You do make a good point."

"I have spoken to Sam, Dean. And Gabriel. Sam has told me that he doesn't want to hunt anymore. Now that Apocalypse has ended, he wants a break."

"I figured," Dean said with a nod. Right from the start, Sam had made it clear that as soon as everything was said and done he'd be gone. It just took a lot longer to get it all wrapped up than they initially thought it would. But that didn't mean he liked the thought of Sam leaving. "He's going back to Stanford, I assume."

"No."

"No?"

"He wants a break, and Gabriel treated us both to an extensive lecture on how law school does not constitute a break," Castiel said, mouth curving into that little smile that Dean loved. 

"So what, then?"

"I'd like to show you. Gabriel has agreed to watch Jude and Page for a little while."

"Okay." Dean sat back, watching as Castiel reached out to touch the eyases. All three of them vanished. Castiel returned a few seconds later, alone, and took Dean's hand again.

When the world solidified around him again, Dean opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was a house. It was a quaint little place, two stories, white on the outside with a red front door and a double driveway. The hedges out front were in need of trimming, and the flowerbeds were dry and empty. The grass needed to be mowed. He and Castiel were standing about twenty feet from the door, and the tips of the grass were high enough to tickle the hem of Dean's jeans.

"I don't get it," Dean admitted after a few seconds. "Who's house is this?"

"It could be ours, if you wanted."

It took a moment for the words to sink in. When they did, Dean snapped his head around to stare at his mate. "What?"

"We need a home to raise our children, Dean," Castiel told him. "So I have been looking. We're only about ten minutes away from Sioux Falls. Close enough that Bobby could be here in less than fifteen, but far enough away to be able to teach Jude and Page to fly."

"But... what about that house?" Dean asked dumbly, pointing to the one right next door. It was a similar style, but had been painted yellow with a blue door.

Castiel grinned. "As it happens, that home is also for sale. Or should I say, it _was_ for sale. This morning it was purchased by a certain archangel."

"You want me to live next door to Gabriel?"

"You'll also be living next door to Sam," Castiel pointed out.

Dean looked back and forth between the two houses, then turned to look down the road. He couldn't see another place for miles. "How did you get the money for this?"

"Gabriel has been on Earth for thousands of years. He has ample funds hidden away."

"So... this is ours?" Dean asked, this time pointing to the white house.

"Yes. If you want it."

"If I... Christ, Cas, of course I want it!" Dean could hardly believe it. The house was beautiful. It was everything he'd been imagining late at night. And the fact that Sam would be right next door was just a huge bonus. Someday he might be separated from his brother, but not right now, and that was a weight off his shoulders.

He turned impulsively, pulling Castiel into a kiss. "Thank you," he whispered against Castiel's lips, meaning it with all of his heart.

One of Castiel's hands brushed his face, cupping his cheek. "You're welcome."


	18. Chapter 18

Dean Winchester was having a staring content, and he was losing. Badly. He crossed his arms and stood his ground, all the while desperately telling himself not to blink - which was hard, because while he used to be pretty good at staring contests, he was out of practice. 

He wasn't sure how it had come to this, but he wasn't going to back down. He was pretty sure that if Sam or Gabriel ever heard about this, both of them would choke to death from laughing so hard. Castiel would just shake his head and adopt that 'humans are strange and I don't understand them' expression that, even after living amongst humans for almost a year, the angel still used on a regular basis. 

Weird how it had come down to this, after he'd spent the last few weeks eagerly waiting for this moment. His earlier elation had change so quickly to dread. He stared harder, setting his jaw firmly, and repeated in very slow, concise syllables: "Papa. It's Pa. Pa."

Jude stared back at him and said exactly what she had said not ten minutes ago. "Mama."

"Papa!"

"Mama."

"No! You call me Papa, not Mama!" Dean said, forcing himself to speak in measured tones when what he really wanted to do was start tearing his hair out. He had no idea where Jude had come up with this "mama" thing. For the past month, he and Castiel had carefully been referring to each other as "Papa" and "Daddy" respectively, hoping that when the girls decided to speak one of those would be their first word.

It worked, sort of. Page's first word, spoken two days ago, was a softly voiced "Dada" while she reached out towards Castiel. Dean would forever treasure the shocked look on Castiel's face. He'd known then that Jude probably wouldn't be far behind in terms of talking - the two of them had started walking within hours of each other - and he'd been preparing for it, hoping that Jude might say his name first. And she had. Sort of. Just not the name that Dean desperately needed her to use. He put his hands on his hips and took a step closer, leaning down to look right into her little face.

"Pa-pa," he said again.

"Ma-ma," Jude replied, just as slowly, and then burst into giggles. She started to clap her hands, chanting, "Ma! Ma! Ma! Ma!" each time she brought her hands together.

"Son of a bitch," Dean said under his breath, too quietly for little eyas ears to overhear. If he couldn't get her to change her mind, there would be no end to the teasing he'd endure. But the past ten months had taught him exactly how stubborn Jude Sammy Winchester could be. The infamous incident with the peas that no one talked about came to mind. Unless Jude wanted to call him "Papa", there was no way she was going to do it.

"Mama!" Jude declared finally, throwing her arms wide and giving Dean an expectant look.

His heart melted. Even though he knew he shouldn't be encouraging her by responding to the name, he bent down and hooked his hands under her armpits, hoisting her into the air. She squealed with laughter during that split second when she was airborne and her little wings fluttered madly. They were still far too small to carry her, but Castiel had told him how important it was for both eyases to exercise their wings on a daily basis. Castiel favored the method of bouncing the girls on his knee to simulate flying, but Dean liked giving them a gentle toss in the air. He loved the way it made both of his little girls laugh.

"What am I gonna do with you?" he asked, cupping an arm under her butt for support. She cuddled in close, clumsily wrapping her arms around his neck, and he breathed in that awesome scent of baby: sweet and fresh. Sometimes he wondered how much longer it would last. They weren't even twelve months old yet, but they seemed to be growing up so frigging _fast_. Faster than he was ready for. 

Before he knew it, they'd be ready to go off to their first day of school. And then it would be just one thing after another: first date, first day of high school, graduation, teaching them to drive, letting them leave for college... His arms tightened around Jude and he sucked in an unsteady breath as she nuzzled against his cheek. The name was embarrassing and damaging to his ego, but it wasn't like Castiel hadn't referred to him as their mother in the past. Even Gabriel had done it a couple of times, though Dean had put a stop to that pretty quick.

"Baby girl, you and your sister are gonna be the end of me," he whispered into her hair. She had darker hair, Jimmy's hair, and it was growing in fine and curly over the tips of her ears, just barely brushing her big green eyes. Heartbreaker for sure. He'd be beating the boys off with a shotgun. 

He carried her over to the door and pushed it open. Winter was finally ending, and spring was here. The grass would need to be mowed soon, and Castiel and Sam had been hard at work in the flowerbeds for the past week. Both of them had developed an obsession with gardening, though Castiel tended more towards flowers while Sam was all about the fresh vegetables and fruits, and it wouldn't be long before there was more greenery shooting up than Dean could handle.

Right now, the two of them were bent over the huge joint garden. Sam was walking around with the hoe and Castiel was carefully shaking a few seeds out of a package and then pushing some dirt down over them. Page was watching them from the side, blonde hair tied up into two messy pigtails. She was so covered in mud that it was good for Castiel's sake that he could clean her in the blink of an eye, because Dean sure as hell wasn't going to be the one trying to get mud out of Page's favorite purple dress.

"Dada!" Jude yelled, swinging around to observe her father and uncle. 

Castiel's head snapped around and he straightened up so fast a human would've got whiplash. He had that same awed expression on his face that always made Dean's heart flip over, and he bent down to set Jude on the ground. She toddled unsteadily over to Castiel, wings flared wide for balance, hands already outstretched for a hug, which Castiel granted her the second she was within reaching distance.

Dean was too far away to hear what he was saying, but judging from the soppy look Sam was giving them, it was mushy and emotional. He took his time walking across the lawn.

Page squealed at him, lifting muddy hands up when he got close. Dean grimaced at the sight of her and shook his head. "What makes you think Papa wants to hold such a messy little girl?" he teased, squatting down and tickling her.

"What a party pooper, Page," Gabriel drawled. Page shrieked with joy when the archangel appeared behind her and gently scooped her into the air. Her wings fluttered like crazy at the movement, and Gabriel grinned.

"You say that, but I can't help noticing you cleaned her up before you did that," Dean said wryly, because Page was now as spotless as she'd been when Dean dressed her that morning.

Gabriel just shrugged. "All the better to get dirty again."

"I'll remember that when you have kids," Dean promised. It was supposed to be a joke, but he caught the way Sam shifted out of the corner of his eye. Almost immediately his brother froze, but it was too late. Dean stared at him, then at Gabriel, and then back again, his mind drawing conclusions he wasn't exactly thrilled with.

Sam and Gabriel might have finally mated five months ago, but that didn't mean Dean was comfortable with anyone knocking up his baby brother. He pointed a threatening finger at Gabriel, who had the grace to look a tiny bit panicked as he clutched Page tighter in a shield (not that he would ever admit it, of course). 

"I was going to tell you sooner," Sam said hastily, probably in the hopes of saving his mate from the fate of losing a key body part. "But we've been trying to figure out the best way to tell you. I'm pregnant."

"Congratulations," Castiel said instantly, and from the way he said it, Dean could tell that he knew beforehand but hadn't said anything. It figured _now_ would be the time that Castiel would figure out tact and subtlety.

"Dean?" Sam asked, sounding all hesitant and like a little kid, which was all kinds of unfair.

"Congrats," Dean grumbled. He'd already had the 'are you sure this is what you want' talk with Sam back before he and Gabriel mated. It just seemed so at odds with the nine to five, white picket fence dream that Sam had clung to his whole life. But Sam was adamant then, and Dean was smart enough to know that his brother hadn't changed his mind. Saying anything would only result in a fight.

But Sam was frowning now. "You don't sound happy."

"I'm happy."

"Dean."

Dean shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets, self-conscious at the way that Gabriel and Castiel exchanged knowing looks and then led Jude and Page a little distance away. A heavy, awkward silence descended. He didn't need to look up to know that Sam was glaring at him even harder.

"I just... Sammy, this wasn't what you wanted," Dean said to the ground, scuffing at a patch of mud. "Just because I mated with Cas and had a couple of kids... I wouldn't stop you from going to law school or whatever if that's what you really want. You can still be normal."

"Christ," Sam said with a loud, exaggerated sigh. "Are you trying to tell me that all this moping over me and Gabriel has been because you think I'm following in your footsteps just because I think I have to? For god's sake, Dean, I'm not five years old anymore. I am capable of making my own decisions."

"Well sorry," Dean said, eyeing him back. "But you were the one who decided that I wanted to live with Lisa and Ben. You were so crazy about the normal life that you thought it was what I wanted, too."

Sam looked a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry about that, okay? I've changed since then, Dean. What I have with Gabriel might not be normal, but..." He shrugged. "It makes me happy. Happier than I've been in a long time. And this..." He cupped a hand over his belly. "We talked about it a lot. It didn't just happen. I can go to law school at any time. But this... I _want_ this."

The sincerity with which Sam said those words eased something in Dean that had been festering for a long time. He turned, reaching out to clap his brother on the shoulder. "Then I'm glad, Sammy. I really am. Do you know any details yet?"

"Gabriel told me there was just one egg, but he doesn't know anything else yet." Sam was grinning.

"A niece or nephew," Dean said, dropping his gaze to Sam's midsection. At least this time they would know what was going on. Sam wouldn't be going through this blindly. He'd have Gabriel's support, not to mention Dean and Castiel.

"Page and Jude will have a cousin."

That was a nice idea. Dean liked the thought of their kids growing up together. He was going to say as much, but a thin voice cut him off.

"Mama!"

Dean turned automatically, just in time for Page to collide with his legs. She grabbed a fistful of his jeans and looked up at him with beaming blue eyes. Behind them, Gabriel took right into laughing. Castiel was smart enough to hide his smile. Sam was starting to laugh, too, until Dean turned and glared at him.

"This will be you in a few months," he promised. "Just you wait, pal. I'm not the only mama around here."

Sam's smile vanished. Dean smirked at him, feeling oddly pleased, and walked over to join his mate and other daughter. Jude reached out for him with eager hands and he scooped her up with his free arm, grunting a little. They were getting big enough that sometimes it was hard to hold them both at the same time, but he didn't care. He looked up into Castiel's eyes, returning the smile on his mate's face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is definitely the last chapter. I wasn't going to write it, but a lot of people were asking about Sam and Gabriel - and the mental image I had of the girls calling Dean "Mama" was too cute to ignore. So now you know that Sam and Gabe are mated and will have a kid, and Dean and Cas and the girls are happy, and everything ended in a way totally designed to give you cavities.

**Author's Note:**

> Come check me out on [tumblr](http://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/).


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